


In the Span of a Week

by viridiangold



Series: In the Span of a Series [1]
Category: The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Banter, Closet Sex, Denial of Feelings, Dom/sub Undertones, Enemies and Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Enthusiastic Consent, F/F, First Time, Flirty!Luz, Fluff and Smut, Girls Kissing, Humor, Innuendo, Porn With Plot, Potions Accident, Resolved Sexual Tension, Self-Denial, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Teasing, Top!Luz, Tsundere Amity Doesn't Know What This Feeling Is, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Witch Duel, Witchcraft, amity pov, i wonder what author luz read to get so good at that, now that the last chapter has been added i can say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:22:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26762050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viridiangold/pseuds/viridiangold
Summary: In the span of a week, Amity Blight (yes, that Amity, the wild-haired, pink-dressed, undisputed queen of Hexside ruling on a seat of flames) falls off her throne. Literally.It’s all Noceda’s fault. Stupid beanie bitch. Stupid human that sexually harassed Amity into falling for her. Stupid Luz who did the impossible—cracked the composure of Hexside’s Top Student, got into her pants, and got a girlfriend out of it too.This is a commission for Mouse. This fic would not exist without them. Everyone, thank Mouse.
Relationships: (Beta Lumity), Amity Blight/Luz Noceda
Series: In the Span of a Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2096973
Comments: 246
Kudos: 1630





	1. Monday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mouse32](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mouse32/gifts).



> (In case you can't tell, this is a Beta Lumity alternate universe. They're 17. Rating to go up in later chapters.)

The first time Amity sees her nemesis is on Monday, in the hallway, at the start of an otherwise unremarkable week. Senior year at Hexside is well under way, and no one in their right mind would transfer schools at this point. Not when coven applications are in full swing, not when there’s a major Abominations exam next week, not likely at all. 

That’s why Amity is… confused to see a new face. She’s heard the rumors rippling around the school, that there’s a _human_ transferring, the first ever at Hexside. She chalked it up to pure hearsay, however, until now—until she can no longer pretend that she doesn’t see the small, round face with its perfectly smooth brown skin, the sly grin that quirks up the corners of the human’s mouth, mischievous eyes and pert nose and round ears—round ears!—framed by long, messy tresses of dark hair, all topped with a scrunched-up beanie hat. 

All this Amity sees from the opposite end of a hallway. The mysterious new student slouches, an odd, sensual curve to the way her body drapes against a locker, her shoulders weighed down by a tiny black backpack. She absolutely exudes cool confidence, nonchalance, and… rebelliousness. Amity can tell that this girl is trouble. She isn’t even wearing the proper Hexside uniform. There is a dress code here, for Titan’s sakes! Who gave _her_ the right to show up to this institution in tight black skinny jeans and stompy, shiny black boots and a slightly ripped purple shirt and an extremely edgy but highly inappropriate green army jacket? 

Amity feels her cheeks heat up, and something stirs in her stomach. She nods grimly to herself. No one has ever incited such a strong physical reaction of anger and hatred in her before, so this girl must be something especially bad. There’s something about her that makes Amity’s skin prickle with nervousness and a feeling of impending disaster. _She doesn’t belong here._

Determined and haughty, Amity sets off down the hallway. Students gasp and make way for her flouncing strides as she comes, and she flashes an arrogant smile at them. _That’s right. Your Top Student is about to put someone in her place._

When she reaches the human, Amity realizes with a start that the human… is taller than her by a little, even when slouching. Amity’s stomach swoops a bit and squirms. In discomfited realization, of course. 

“Why aren’t you in uniform,” Amity snaps. There is no questioning inflection to her voice. Hopefully, the human will see that she means business.

“Hey,” drawls the human. “I’m doing great, thanks for asking. And this is my first day, so I don’t really have one yet.”

Amity sniffs. _Get out of my school, you rude, slovenly brat. Hmph. But I can’t say that to her._ “Welcome to Hexside,” she says instead, rather icily, tossing her mane of mint hair. “I’d like to inform you that this school is intended for elite witches of the highest caliber who hold high ambitions and maintain a strong work ethic. If you are merely here for _kicks_ —”

The corner of the human’s lips quirks upward. Amity glares at the offending mouth, narrows her eyes, and looks the human up and down, from the lopsided maroon beanie to the strong stance of those stompy boots. Her entire aura seems even more inappropriate for Hexside up close. Furious heat rushes to Amity’s face. 

“—then I suggest you do yourself a favor and leave.”

The human doesn’t say anything, but instead shifts her weight, does this very strange maneuver where she tilts her face downward and looks up at Amity through her eyelashes, then twirls her fingers around a strand of her hair. Her large eyes are a warm, friendly brown. 

“Say,” she smirks. “What’s your name?”

Amity raises an eyebrow in disbelief. “You haven’t heard of me?”

“Nope,” the human replies, popping the ‘p’ in a crass manner.

Amity crosses her arms, cocks her hip to the side, and musters the most condescending expression she’s got. “I’m Amity Blight, Top Student of Hexside, future member of the Emperor’s Coven and fire witch extraordinaire.”

She snaps her fingers to conjure up a flame for dramatic effect. The human… smirks. _What?_

“Pretty name,” says the human. “I’m Luz. Luz Noceda.”

Luz extends a hand. Amity really doesn’t want to take it; she doesn’t want to touch or be anywhere near this human girl, but she has no choice if she doesn’t want to forfeit in this war of polite politics. Amity takes it. 

Her own hand is smaller than Luz’s, which is warm and gentle but firm and nice and now falling away after shaking hers and now making a finger gun as Luz clicks her teeth and says, “See you around, Amity Blight,” and leaves.

Amity stares after Luz as she lopes away, swaying slightly under the weight of her backpack.

_The audacity of this human… to be the one to turn away from ME._

_I hate her. I really do._

***

Amity doesn’t think much more of the human as she goes to her first class of the day, Recent History and Modern Affairs of the Boiling Isles. She’s fairly certain that this “Luz Noceda” is too much of a delinquent to be qualified for any classes on Amity’s level, so it shouldn’t be a problem as long as they don’t run into each other again. The seminary discussion passes by quickly, and Amity fills an entire five pages with detailed, tiny script. During the ten minutes of passing period between classes, Amity decides to visit the restroom. A good student refrains from taking care of their needs on class time and acts proactively instead. 

As she’s washing her hands over the sink, the door of the dingy stall on the farthest side flies open, and someone struts out. Amity narrows her eyes at her new sworn enemy. 

“You didn’t flush, Noceda,” she notes, frowning at Luz in the mirror.

Luz’s reflection catches her eye amusedly. “Didn’t need to,” she practically sings.

Amity scowls, rapidly dries her hands with a burst of fire, and storms over to the stall to investigate. _Who knows what kind of illicit activity she’s up to._

What greets her eyes is far worse than anything she could have imagined. Scrawled on the tile above the out-of-order toilet are eight crudely written words: “AMITY BLIGHT WANTS TO KISS ME SO BAD.”

_What._

_The._

_Hell._

Amity takes a deep breath.

_And it’s not even grammatically correct._

Amity backs out of the stall slowly, slamming the door. She forces herself to turn around slowly. “Noceda. What. The. Hell.”

Luz laughs. She _laughs._

Amity takes another deep breath, but that laugh is the last straw. “You are a disgusting delinquent unfit to attend this institution!” she yells, her voice increasing in volume and vitriol as her fury gains momentum. “There are rules you have to follow if you want to be here! You can’t—you can’t vandalize bathrooms and show up dressed provocatively and expect to be allowed to stay! This is _property damage_ for the school and _defamation_ of my character! You’re incorrigible! You—”

Amity breaks off. Luz is just looking at her and smiling somewhat dreamily, as if mocking her. 

“Hello?! Are you even listening?”

Luz keeps looking at her evenly. 

_Alright. That’s IT._ Amity steps forward and shoves her, hard, palms connecting with her chest. Luz stumbles back a few steps but recovers quickly, her own hands shooting out to grasp Amity’s and push back. Taken completely off guard (no one has ever dared to put their hands on Amity Blight before), she loses her balance and staggers into the wall behind her. 

For a second, Amity feels nothing but shock. Then, the rage hits.

“How dare you push me?” Amity fumes, practically spitting fire. 

Luz laughs, incredulous. “You… you literally? Pushed me first?”

Amity snarls and pushes off the wall, lunging forward to shove the insolent human again. To her surprise, however, Luz springs forward as well, catches her wrists, and crashes into her body, pinning her to the wall. Amity’s breath leaves her body as her back slams into the wall. 

Luz’s face is close, too close, (Amity hates it) and her eyes sparkle as she says, “Bet you didn’t expect _that_ now, huh?”

Amity didn’t, to be honest. This is an entirely unique situation, very different from Polite Politics, and she doesn’t think she’s ever been so uncertain before. Luz clasps her wrists in a grip wrenched above her head, boxing her in so that all she can see is Luz’s face and all she can feel is Luz’s hot breath on her lips. Luz leans over her so closely that the two strands of hair that frame her face brush Amity’s cheeks.

Amity hates it. Her legs are still free, so she squirms and tries to kick at Luz’s ankles, but the human just says, “oh, nah,” and walks so close to Amity that their bodies are pressed flush together, and now Amity is completely trapped. Luz is incredibly warm against her, and Amity is acutely aware of several points of contact—Luz’s fingers, gripping her wrists so tightly, Luz’s chest, pressing insistently into her own, Luz’s thighs, keeping her from escaping or moving at all. A wave of something akin to panic floods hotly through her, and her stomach drops like she’s free falling. Amity has never felt panic quite like this before. Very weird type of panic. Like all unfamiliar things, she hates it. 

Her breath comes in quick gasps, mingling with Luz’s as they stare at each other expressionlessly. Amity searches her eyes for the same kind of hatred she feels. She can’t quite get a read on Luz. Luz is unfamiliar. She hates that. 

Amity clenches her jaw. Luz doesn’t move at all, except for the slight give when Amity’s chest heaves and pushes back against hers, and it’s very unnerving. So, Amity supposes, it’s time for drastic action. She _needs_ Luz to yield and back off. 

She works up some saliva and spits viciously in Luz’s face. 

Luz’s eyes widen a tiny bit, but she doesn’t even flinch, much less yield her grip on Amity. To her satisfaction, Amity can see flecks of her spit dotting Luz’s lips. _Which is gross, right? It definitely has to be bothering her. She’ll have to wipe it off at some point. She can’t keep me here forever!_

Amity juts out her chin defiantly, waiting for a response. However, instead of saying anything, Luz closes her eyes slowly, blinks them open, and looks straight at Amity. Then, Luz grins at her darkly. Amity’s breath hitches. In fear, of course. 

Very slowly, never breaking eye contact, Luz darts the tip of her tongue out and runs it languidly over her lips, first the top, then the bottom, leaving behind a glistening sheen. Amity stares in horrified fascination. _What kind of degenerate would do something like that?_

And then she does it again. Amity can’t stop staring at that little pink sliver of tongue daintily licking away her spit— _Amity’s spit!_ —as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Luz’s lips are now glossy and reddening, and still Amity can’t stop looking. 

Suddenly, she realizes what she’s doing and practically flings her gaze back up to Luz’s eye level, but the damage has been done: Luz smirks triumphantly like she’s been proven right. _Which she hasn’t! I was just looking because she did something disgusting and unexpected. I was shocked, that’s all._

They lock eyes, brown staring into gold, daring each other to move. Amity’s shoulder joints ache from their position. She’s positive Luz must be at least just as tired, but Luz doesn’t move a muscle. _Well, I can be stubborn too._

The ghostly hint of a smile flickers across Luz’s glossy lips. Hot blood continues to pound through Amity’s ears, pumping her veins full of adrenaline and animosity. Her breathing sounds so loud in her own head. 

Luz starts leaning down further, getting closer and closer to Amity. _What the hell does she think she’s doing. What do I do. I—_

Amity’s heart beats wildly, and her eyes flutter closed.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”

The class bell screams and gives Amity the fright of her life. Luz doesn’t seem that surprised, but she does release Amity and step back, rolling her shoulders. Hitching her bag a little higher over her shoulder, she smiles, “A witch of your high caliber better not be late to class, Blight.”

The door swings shut behind her.

_Did she just—did she walk away from me again?_

Amity screams in rage and flings a burst of fire at the door. 

_Wait, I’m late to class!_

_I hate that Noceda girl._

_This is the worst day of my life._


	2. Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It can't get any worse after Monday, can it?

Amity arrives at Hexside on Tuesday morning with the firm resolution to completely ignore Luz for the rest of her tenure at school (not that it’ll be long, as the human is bound to get expelled soon for something or the other). 

She is successful for the entire morning. Not a single glimpse of beanie hat torments her, but her dread at a possible encounter keeps her nerves highly strung. Amity peers around every corner before turning it, and she wonders briefly if she’s fallen ill—her relief at not running into the human is so immense that her mind seems to have mixed in some weird feeling of disappointment.

_ No. I’m better than this. I am mature enough to not wish to seek out conflict. I am collected. I am NOT disappointed that I have no opportunity to confront that… that absolute RAT.  _

_ Well… _

_ Fine.  _

_ Fine! I’m disappointed.  _

_ I am disappointed that I have not had the chance to give her a piece of my mind. How dare she put her hands on me yesterday. I will burn her hands off. I will singe her stupid hat to a crisp. _

Amity manages to work herself into a frenzied determination. She’s almost shaking with furious anticipation, her stomach fluttering with apprehension and excitement, by the time she reaches the cafeteria. 

It all drains away in disappointment when she realizes that Luz isn’t there. 

She collects her tray of unidentified steak and glass of iced apple blood numbly, legs moving automatically to the coveted table at the center of the cafeteria, where the other popular girls lounge and lunch, admired by the rest of the school. She’s late to lunch, and everyone else is already here. Some of them greet her when she arrives, but she ignores them, tucking her uniform skirt neatly under her as she sits. She eats methodically and unceremoniously. 

_ Forget that human. She’s probably… she’s probably gone. She took my advice and left. It was just an anomaly of an incident. I should be focusing on that Abominations exam. I’ll eat quickly, then use the second half of lunch to visit the school library. Right. She’s probably gone. If she were still attending Hexside, she’d be here right now. Lunch. Right. Lunch. Then library. I have a clear plan. _

There’s a strange hollowness spreading in Amity’s stomach, but she forces herself to finish the rest of her lunch in a few quick bites. She gathers her tray and stands up stiffly, ignoring the chatter of her friends. Her nearly untouched glass of apple blood and melting ice shifts the weight of the tray, much to her annoyance. She has to actually focus on balancing the tray as she walks over to the deposit area, looking down at it like some kind of insecure loser instead of strutting with her head held high as she normally does. For a moment, she contemplates downing the glass, but she’s already walking, so it would be awkward to stop, and she doesn’t think she could stomach the liquid regardless.

Just when she reaches her destination, a voice behind her practically purrs: “Heyyy, Amity~”

Without turning around, she already knows who it is. Her heart gives a weird little jump, and her stomach regains all of its previous anxious fluttering. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and draws herself up straight. “Noceda. I thought you had departed this institution.”

“Nah, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Amity spins around, opening her mouth to say—what? Well, she doesn’t really know. She’s painfully conscious that most of the cafeteria is observing her interaction with the human with acute interest, however. Luz smiles at her expectantly, and Amity grasps wildly for something to say. Suddenly, she notices Luz’s outfit: an incredibly inappropriate white cotton tank top showing off the muscles in her shoulders and arms, a red flannel tied snugly around her waist, red and black checkered sneakers, and a new pair of black skinny jeans, this time ripped at the knees. Even worse, the stupid beanie is still there, sitting smugly on top of her stupid, silky hair, and there are stupid edgy  _ chains _ clipped to her belt loops and dangling as she moves. 

“You’re not in uniform again,” Amity says pointedly and hurriedly.  _ Was I silent for too long before I said that? Did I spend too much time observing her uniform violation? _

Luz laughs her horrible little Luz laugh. “I ordered it, like, yesterday. I’m pretty sure it’ll be here by tomorrow.”

Amity scoffs, an undignified little  _ pff _ sound that she instantly regrets due to its uncouth nature.

Luz, however, beams in delight. “You’re so cute when you’re spluttering, Amity,” she says. Then, she leans in way, way close to Amity’s face. Amity leans back. Luz leans forward, matching her every move.

Amity’s hands clench on the tray she’s still holding. In the corner of her eye, she can just  _ tell _ that everyone is now staring, if they weren’t already before.  _ What the hell does she think she’s doing. What do I do. What do I do! I can’t let her get the upper hand over me in public. Or ever again. I’m a Blight, damn it! _

“Get out of my face, Noceda,” she snarls.

“Or what?” Luz cocks her head to the side, grinning devilishly at her. “You gonna spit on me again,  _ Blight _ ?”

Amity snatches the drink off her tray and ruthlessly flings the contents straight down Luz’s front. Ice crashes noisily to the floor, Luz jumps back with a squeaky little yelp, and a red translucency spreads across her chest.

The surprise on Luz’s face is more satisfying than Amity’s entire day has been so far, and the audible gasp that rises up from the cafeteria around her showers her in the glory of awed attention. For a moment, she’s herself again, triumphant and smug. Then, her gaze slides back to Luz.  _ Big mistake. _

The cold beverage incites shivers in the human and plasters her tank top to her front, rendering it practically see-through. Amity can literally see the stiffening peaks of her nipples and the faint darkness of her areolas through the wet shirt clinging to her every curve.  _ What kind of perverted idiot doesn’t wear a bra with that kind of top?! _

Even worse, Luz untucks her top and wrings it out with both hands, lifting it enough to expose a toned, tan stomach with the barest hint of developing abdominal muscles. Amity swallows. This is… bad. It violates the Hexside dress code. The stark realization hits her, once more, that everyone is probably staring at them and can see Luz be so—so shameless with her body in public, and a wave of rage flushes her entire body. How… how dare Luz expose herself in public. For people to look at. Amity has half a mind to throw a sheet over her and drag her into a private area and… and yell at her about it. Yeah. This is  _ indecent exposure _ and it ought to be condemned.

Luz looks up and catches her gaze, a faint smile playing on her face. “See something you like?”

“ _ What?! _ No, of course not! I’m merely shocked and offended. You are behaving in an improper and deplorable way!”

Luz sighs and rolls her eyes. “Amity, you were the one who decided to dump a drink on me. I was just being friendly.”

_ Friendly? Yeah, right. _ Amity glares at Luz with all the venom she can manage, which Luz ignores.

In fact, Luz casually tucks her wet shirt back in and rolls back her shoulders, thrusting her chest out. “You know,” she winks, regaining her signature smirk, “if you wanted to see me all  _ wet _ and  _ dripping  _ like this, you could have just asked.”

Amity’s mouth falls open in scandalized shock. “Don’t come near me ever again,” she hisses, before she flings her tray down on the deposit counter, whirls around, and power walks away as fast as she can without seeming undignified in front of everyone. Although… she’s probably already done a dozen weird, undignified things during that encounter with the human.  _ Ugh! What must my friend group think of me? Stupid human. Ruining everything. So… so crass. _

Amity wanders her way to the library. She can’t focus. She paces around the shelves for a good fifteen minutes, growling under her breath. She can’t get the image out of her head—the wet tank top clinging to every contour of Luz’s body, sticky little drops of juice rolling down her collarbone,  _ oh hell I basically saw her… her, you know. Why the hell did I dump that drink on her _ .

The librarian gives her a warning look after a while, so she turns and leaves in shame. As she walks down the hallway, her heels clack against the floor. Her next class is Advanced Potions Supplemental, a post-honors class involving high levels of manual dexterity, comprehensive knowledge of arithmetrics, and intimate alchemical understanding. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. She’ll need all her focus to do well in this class. Amity tries to shove the horrible images and unspeakable thoughts out of her mind, filling it instead with academic thoughts. She recites her schedule to herself. Senior year features much longer classes and a block schedule, including classes that meet every other day as well as independent research periods. Honestly, it’s not organized very well in her opinion, as the schedule shifts around too much, and last week she had three potions supplemental classes but this week it’s only on Tuesday (which is today) and Thursday, and she should probably arrive to class early to further cement her close intellectual relationship with the professor (not to, like, brownnose or anything, but, you know, promote a favorable impression of herself) and good, the door is wide open and she walks through, she loves how the professor decided she was the smartest student in the class and since they had an odd number of students she didn’t have to be paired with any of the idiots and instead gets to work all by herself in the back of the classroom, where she is now headed, and  _ oh hell no. _

“Noceda, get the hell out of my seat! Are you  _ stalking _ me?”

Luz leans back in her chair, braces her knee against the edge of the desk, and tips the chair on its hind legs, putting her hands behind her head. She’s still wearing her stained tank top, but it’s mostly dry now. That doesn’t stop Amity from flushing in remembrance. 

“I’m just sitting in my seat,” Luz announces, cheerful as can be.

Amity opens her mouth, prepared to snarl  _ Like hell you are that’s MY seat _ , but the delighted voice of her professor exclaims from behind her, “Ah! Miss Blight! I’m so glad you’ve arrived early today. I hope you’ll help me cordially welcome Miss Noceda to Advanced Potions Supplemental.”

Luz grins. Amity stares. The professor continues, mercilessly happy. “Now, now, I hope with her arrival you’ll be less lonely in the back here. I never did feel right about making you sit all alone! Have you two been introduced to each other yet? No? Well, I’m sure you’ll be great friends after spending the entire semester as potions partners! Miss Blight, why don’t you get her settled in while I prepare the lecture and lab for the Homeostasis Potion today?”

Amity still stares. The professor talks so quickly that no one can get a word in edgewise, and frankly, it’s annoying as hell. Still, she puts on her politest face and tosses her hair. “Pardon me, sir, but are you sure that this… student wants to be… paired with me? Or even be in this class? Have you asked her?”

The professor blinks owlishly. Luz’s drawl fills the air: “Excuse me for interrupting, but I just thought you might wanna hear my direct opinion. I’d like to say that I’d love to work with you for the semester, Amity, and I’m looking forward to the learning opportunities this class presents.”

The professor beams. “There! Now, see, that’s all sorted out! Now, if you don’t mind, Miss Blight, I do have to do a quick little review of my lesson plan before class!”

He bustles away down the aisle. Amity fumes. 

“I don’t know  _ what _ kind of game you’re playing, Noceda,” Amity hisses lowly, “but I can tell you you’re not going to get away with it, because I see right through you.”

Luz arches an eyebrow. “Through me, huh? Is that why you tried to find a way to see through my shirt during lunch?”

Amity recoils. “What? No! Now, listen up. The Homeostasis Potion Project we’re about to do in this class is worth forty percent of my semester grade. I don’t want  _ you _ anywhere near it. So you’re going to shut up, sit back, and let me handle everything. Don’t  _ touch _ me, don’t  _ talk _ to me, and you know what? Don’t even  _ look _ at me. Got it?”

Luz is smiling dreamily at her again, like in the bathroom yesterday. Amity hates that face so much. “Are you even listening?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Luz laughs, and lets  _ Amity’s _ chair crash back onto all fours. “You wanna take the other seat?”

That easy grin hanging on those stupid lips—so infuriating. Amity flounces past without a word, so mad she can practically feel the heat in her face. As she goes, her wrist accidentally brushes against the signature maroon beanie, and she flinches like she’s been shocked. She might as well have been. That’s what it feels like. 

As other students begin flooding into the room, Amity takes out her supplies and sets them up, observing Luz out of the corner of her eye. Luz isn’t even looking at her. Instead, the human watches the other students in fascination and wonder, smiling and waving at them. Something about that makes Amity’s stomach twist in some strong negative emotion—disgust? Anger? She has no idea—worse than ever before. 

She continues to discreetly observe Luz as the lecture begins. Luz actually takes notes, switching her pencil from hand to hand. Amity peers down at the writing. It’s the same messy scrawl as the dastardly bathroom graffiti, but to her surprise, Luz writes equally messily with both hands. Amity looks back up at her face, the sharp, high bridge of her nose, the long, dark eyelashes that flutter as she blinks, the warmth of her brown eyes, looking straight at her—oh. 

Amity quickly bends back to her own notebook and finds it blank, to her utmost horror. How many minutes have passed, anyway? Even worse, she’s been caught staring—well, she wasn’t  _ staring _ at Luz, because she’d never do that, but she’s been caught gazing off into space in a direction that Luz happened to be sitting, and now Luz is going to  _ think _ she was staring, which is a total misunderstanding. 

Luz mumbles something and looks at her expectantly, clearly awaiting a reaction. Amity has no idea what she said.

“What?” she hisses.

“I said,” Luz rolls her eyes, “Homeostasis, more like homo-stasis for us, amirite?”

Amity stares at her uncomprehendingly. 

Luz snickers. “I mean, I’m not like,  _ homo _ homo, I’m bi, but I think the joke still stands.”

Amity’s brain takes a second to process. “ _ Wait, you’re bisexual?! _ ”

Luz laughs.

“Did someone have a question back there?” the professor calls. 

Amity flushes.  _ Oh no. How loud did I say that?  _

“Yeah, actually!” Luz exclaims, straightening up. Amity looks at her wildly. Luz continues, “I was wondering if you could give a quick recap of the practical applications, and also in terms of the theory for the procedure, why do we wanna finish the cold half first instead of the hot half, again?”

Amity blinks.

“Here, look at my notes,” Luz says, shoving them over to her. 

“I can’t read your griffin scratch,” Amity shoots back. But she takes them nonetheless. It’s actually not that bad. She can discern most of the content. Besides, the professor seems to be summarizing what he’s been blathering about for the past ten or so minutes. 

“Now, class, remember that the Homeostasis Potion is all about maintaining balance between hot and cold, cool and warm, two halves dangerously extreme when separate but powerful and grounded when together. One would take this in preparation for a journey to an extreme environment, or when one’s own body temperature is imbalanced for whatever reason. I’m glad Miss Noceda reminded us of an important part of the procedure: although our end goal is to achieve balance between hot and cold, we must begin with the cold half and terminate its synthesizing process before we may add any reagents for the second half of the potion. Otherwise, the hot half would refuse to accept the binding agents, and the two would be unable to mix in the proper manner, a union that takes about a week. Since we will be brewing this in low doses, I do not expect any devastating effects or long-term symptoms should anyone be unfortunate enough as to absorb either half of the potion on its own, but keep in mind that you will be extremely uncomfortable and imbalanced should you come into contact with it. This is why you must all wear the proper safety equipment, which…”

Amity scribbles with wild abandon. She  _ would _ have pre-read the textbook yesterday, but she was distracted and thrown off balance by the bathroom encounter, which is now affecting her current studies.  _ Ugh. Besides, Noceda’s notes seem to contain more information than the professor’s saying right now, and I don’t know how she knows it, or if it’s even correct! _

And Luz is already pulling out the physical equipment. Amity feels panicked and left behind for the first time this year. 

“Hey, get your goggles on,” Luz reminds her. Amity looks up to see that Luz already has her safety eyewear strapped tightly around her head—going  _ around _ the stupid beanie, still!—and green leather gloves pulled to her elbows. Luz looks like a weird, dirty beggar, with her stained top and outlandish accessories and all. Her shoulder muscles are even showing. And… and most of her back. The muscles there flex when she bends down to retrieve a cauldron.  _ What kind of proper girl has such prominent back muscles? Stupid delinquent.  _

Amity rushes to put on her own gear, leafing rapidly through the unit packet she’s been given for the instructions.  _ Okay, it’s water-based… let me get the water boiling… _

Amity looks up. The cauldron is already full of merrily bubbling water. “Noceda…” she growls in warning, fumbling open her satchel of mint leaves. 

“What?” Luz shrugs. Then, the corners of her mouth turn up in a dazzling smile that shows off her teeth. She thrusts her nose in the air, sniffs, and assumes a haughty accent. “Ah can be just as much of ah high-cahlibeh intellectual witch as Ahmity Blight!”

Amity doesn’t even dignify that with a reply. She reaches across their shared desk to hurl the mint leaves into the cauldron, but warm hands grasp her wrists firmly and tug them back. Amity starts struggling immediately, but Luz’s grip is too strong.  _ What’s she playing at? We’re in class, for Titan’s sakes! _

“Whoa, Amity,” Luz murmurs. “Sorry for grabbing you like that, but you’re supposed to add the mint leaves one by one. Otherwise, it weakens the final product.”

Amity wrenches her hands away and glares. “Show me where it says that.”

Luz gives her a tentative, apologetic smile, and waves at the chalkboard at the front of the room. As Amity notices the clear warning about the mint, she can feel the tips of her ears turning red.  _ Oh no. As if I haven’t been embarrassed enough already. Now the human is… outperforming me? No! No. I can’t let this happen. _

Vowing to pay closer attention to the instructions, Amity bends close to the work at hand. Steam from the cauldron fogs up her goggles.  _ Ironic, how the cold half needs to be forged from heat. _

She gathers up the glass stirring rod, about to plunge it into the frothing potion base, when Luz leans over and jokes, “Wanna sit back and leave everything to me instead?”

Amity presses her lips together furiously and smacks Luz’s arm with the stick.  _ How dare she mock me with my own words. _

“Ow, jeez,” Luz laughs, rubbing at her arm. She looks up playfully through her eyelashes, and her eyes meet Amity’s, her mouth starting to form into that familiar, hated smirk. “I didn’t know you were so kinky, Amity.”

Amity gasps in outrage, clamps her mouth shut, and turns away from Luz, refusing to talk to her for the rest of the period. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented. I love you all so much!!! Every single one of your comments made me so, so happy when I checked my phone and saw them.


	3. Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luz continues to be suspicious and annoying. Then, she offers an intriguing deal.

Amity wakes up incredibly tired in the morning. She maaaybe, kind of, sort of spent a while, maybe hours, last night thinking of ways to get the upper hand over Luz. Maybe that’s why she had such a weird dream. Well, it wasn’t, like, _too_ weird, but Luz was in it in some capacity, she doesn’t really remember what it was about, and Luz being there is like… weird. Like, there’s no way she would’ve dreamed about Luz or even been thinking about her if she weren’t plotting dastardly revenge. Regardless, she can feel the dream slipping away from her, quickly replaced by excitement: she knows how she’s going to get revenge on Luz today. 

Amity arrives at Hexside even earlier than she normally does, since she doesn’t really know what time Luz usually arrives. In fact, she arrives at sunrise. Hexside isn’t even technically open yet, and no one’s supposed to be here except for the tired adults who have to prepare to teach for the day, but Amity figures that Luz, a rebellious individual, would totally be the kind of person to do things she isn’t supposed to. Which is why Amity has to think like a delinquent. Think like a delinquent to trap a delinquent. _Oh, Titan, I’m tired. I’m just going to slide down the wall… lean against it… maybe rest my eyes for a little bit…_

The next thing Amity knows, she wakes up with a violent start. Looking around, she doesn’t see anything out of place; no one else seems to have arrived yet, at least not that she can see from her vantage point on the floor—oh. _I’m on the damn floor! How did I get here? This is unbecoming of my… ah… I’m so tired._

Amity yawns and stretches. When she opens her eyes, the bane of her existence is right there, smiling into her face. “Aah!”

“Hey, Amity~” Luz Noceda says brightly, leaning down to her level with her hands behind her back. Amity scoots back, scrambling wildly. The literal last thing Amity wants to see this early in the morning is that cursed beanie hat. Luz’s dark hair swings forward, coming dangerously close to Amity’s face. “Are you okay? I kinda watched you keel over while you were sleeping.”

“I wasn’t sleeping!” Amity cries, leaping to her feet. Suddenly, she remembers her revenge with vicious glee. _I’m going to get Luz into detention for her egregious uniform violations today!_

Practically trembling with delighted anticipation, Amity draws herself up pompously, only to stop in her tracks as she takes in all of her nemesis. Luz is wearing. The damn. Hexside. Uniform. _No!_

“Where are your rebellious clothes?” Amity snaps.

Luz quirks an eyebrow. “Good morning to you too. First you nag me every day about my uniform, and now you wanna see my other clothes?”

“Answer the question, Noceda.”

“Why, Miss Blight, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you wanna see every inch of me.”

A fire crackles to life in Amity’s palm. “Stop sexually harassing me. Or I’ll kill you with my fire.”

“Well, maybe stop being a total bitch,” Luz laughs. “C’mon, I know you’re better than that.”

She shifts her weight, and the morning sunlight catches on something glinting on her cowl. It’s not a Hexside button. Luz has torn that out and replaced it with some sort of colored rectangle, with a pink stripe, a blue stripe, and a purple stripe in the middle.

“Aha!” Amity shrieks, pointing a blazing finger at the mysterious pin. Luz leans backwards and ducks under the fire that accompanies her motion. “Uniform violation! I’m officially reporting you! Go to detention, you slatternly miscreant!”

The perpetually amused expression on Luz’s face fades into a mask of calm blankness. She takes several steps towards Amity, invading her personal space and slowly backing her against the wall. _Not again_ , Amity thinks desperately. But the lack of expression on Luz’s face really scares her, for the first time.

Luz reaches out and grasps a fistful of Amity’s hair, which is even wilder than usual this morning due to her rough sleep. Luz wraps the green strands tightly around her fingers, winding until her nails are pressed against Amity’s scalp, fiercely tugging at her brown roots. Automatic tears spring to Amity’s eyes. 

“You know, Blight,” Luz says, neutrally, bringing her forefinger to tilt Amity’s chin up while jerking her head back with the hand in her hair, “I think I’ve got you figured out.”

Luz doesn’t even blink, her eyes boring straight into Amity’s soul. 

“Let me guess. Perfect grades. Strict home life. Unfulfilling friendships. A need to fill the lack of love in your life with cold superiority and control over everyone around you.”

She pauses, her voice flat. “You’re an immature, condescending control freak, Blight. Spend some time figuring out who you are and what you want other than being the Little Miss Perfect of Hexside.”

Amity struggles with what to say. The pressure in her skull, the way Luz is touching her, it _hurts_ her, and that’s even discounting the words. The _words._ The words are so painfully, horribly accurate, and she needs to drown them out with jabs of her own. “Well—well, I think I know who you are, too! You’re a loner, a weirdo, and a delinquent who drifts around looking cool but can’t ever find anyone you actually like to spend time with. You think you’re hot stuff, but you’re just bored and alone!”

Luz’s mask breaks, her grip softens, and her normal expression quirks through again, a bit wistful, mostly amused. Amity almost sighs in relief. Even though she tells herself she’s disappointed because she was hoping for anger, she’s really quite glad her—well, the—old Luz is back. 

“Heh,” Luz snorts. “Did you just call me hot stuff?”

“ _No_ ,” Amity says, insistently. “I didn’t say you were hot. I said _you_ think you’re hot.”

Luz relinquishes Amity entirely, stepping back and doubling over in laughter. “Ha! I never even said anything about being hot. You brought that up entirely on your own.”

“No, I didn’t!” Amity conjures up fistfuls of fire. “I’ll show you hot! Not that I said anything about that! Because I didn’t!”

Luz holds up her hands placatingly, looking like she’s desperately trying to stop laughing. Amity hates that.

“Whatever you say, Amity. Although, if we haven’t strayed too far from labeling each other with preconceived prejudices…” Luz’s gaze flickers lasciviously downwards. “...I bet you wear a plain white 38B cup with a little pink bow in the middle.”

_What? Where did that come from? How does she know what my—?_

Amity growls. “I had you pegged as a pervert from the start.”

Luz’s eyes light up. “Oh, you can peg me all night.”

Amity blinks. “ _What?_ ”

Luz smiles coyly at her. “What?”

A blush suffuses Amity’s face and neck. She has to remind herself that she’s _angry_ about it, damn it. “I told you you were a pervert, Noceda.”

“Is that why you’re out to get me?”

“Aha! You didn’t deny it! You acknowledge your own depravity!”

“Sure, Amity, let’s just pretend for a moment that I possess depravity of the highest caliber.”

“Noceda. Stop mocking me with that phrase.”

“What? High caliber? I’m not mocking you, I’m just utilizing a word from the, uh, grand arsenal of my vocabularial lexicon that makes me fit to attend this fine institu—”

“See!” Amity shrieks. “This is why you belong in detention! You’re insufferable, sarcastic, inappropriate, annoying, disgusting, vainglorious, presumptuous, lackadaisical—”

“Ooh, that’s a good one. I like that one. Lackadaisical. Cute.”

“—unkempt, debauched, aggressive, incorrigible, audacious, stylish, bewitching—”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I SAID YOU’RE BITCHING!”

“Riiight.” Luz looks skeptically at her. “Huh, that’s the first time I’ve heard you swear.”

Amity stands stricken. “I… I don’t usually swear. You’re just especially infuriating.”

Luz stretches and slings her bag over her shoulder ruefully. “Well, as much as I’d love to keep standing here watching you rant and get your panties all in a twist over me, I’m going to class. See you around.”

_No. Not again! NO! No one is allowed to walk away from Amity Blight._ “No! You can’t walk away from me. You can’t talk about my panties. And you—”

Luz turns around to face her but keeps walking backwards, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Guess what! I just did! You can just stand there in your pink cotton panties and watch me go!”

Amity balls her fists at her sides. “Go to detention, Noceda!”

Luz raises a middle finger at her. “Go fuck yourself, Blight!”

“Ugh!” Amity turns away and stomps her foot. _What an absolute disaster of a morning._

The first stream of try-hard underclassman witchlings is approaching the school, a colorful sea on the ground pouring through the trees instead of hitching a ride through the sky from busy parents. They look to Amity with deference, as a role model. Amity refuses to look stupid and chase after Luz in front of them, so she tosses her head proudly and sets off in another direction. 

***

Amity can almost hear the sound of her grades slipping from her as she struggles to stay awake during class. She’s had to hide countless yawns behind her hand and faked increasingly implausible coughs to avoid coming off as rude. She watches the clock, dividing the remaining time in her own head—okay, twenty minutes left… nearly there! That’s just ten minutes left, twice, or five minutes left, four times… just need to get through five minutes. Four times.

_See, I’m good at arithmetrics._

She conjures a tiny flame under the desk. Concentrating on the magic helps keep her awake, and the heat emanating from it is nice. 

That little flame is what gets her through the excruciating final minutes of class. In fact, it’s really helpful, because she’s concentrating so hard on maintaining it—it’s much harder to keep a small fire warm and alive than to let it burst forth, hot and uncontrolled—that she doesn’t think of anything or anyone else. 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”

_Damn bell. They couldn’t have chosen a less jarring sound?_

Amity gets slowly to her feet. She didn’t even bring her bag to class today, because she was too tired and accidentally left it in her locker—hopefully the professor didn’t notice. Honestly, she’s much too exhausted to go eat lunch. Is it so terrible if she merely doesn’t want to put on the act for the public, doesn’t want them to scrutinize her for any sign of weakness when she’s just… so… tired?

Suddenly, in a jolt of remembrance, Amity recalls the bathroom graffiti Luz left on Monday. She forgot all about it! It’s probably still up! People could probably go in and see it! Not that many witches often use that stall, because it’s broken, but still. It’s her reputation at stake.

Gaining a spring in her step, Amity sets off down the hall to the bathroom. _Today during lunch I’ll get rid of the graffiti. That’s what I’ll do._

Ten minutes later, Amity is at her wits’ end. She’s tried everything: scrubbing hard with water and paper, borrowing stain removal potion from the storage closet down the hall, even blasting fire at the wall for a minute straight. Nothing works. 

_It doesn’t make sense. If it were any kind of Boiling Isles ink, it would come off. Granted, I shouldn’t have expected the fire to work, as all school property is enchanted to ward against fire. Still. Ugh._

Amity hurls a halfhearted parting blast of fire at the offending tiles before stalking out of the bathroom entirely. _Maybe… maybe I’ll go to the library. Do some research. This is quite the mystery._

When she enters, the librarian gives her a bit of an offended look and turns away. Ah. Perhaps he hasn’t forgotten her wild pacing and muttering the other day. Nevertheless, it is in Amity’s habit to stomach the disapproval with simultaneous humility and pride. She crosses the main reading floor of the library in haughty strides, heading straight for the alchemical section.

A flash of maroon catches her eye. She spins around. Nothing there.

_How suspicious._

Amity browses the available array of books. Perhaps she ought to investigate alchemical substances outside the Boiling Isles. Luz is a human, and humans come from… the Human Realm, right? Who knows what sorts of strange materials they have there? 

Amity’s gaze flicks rapidly across shelves upon shelves. There are a lot of theoretical texts here. It’s not exactly what she wants. Still, it might be helpful to start with a tertiary source, an encyclopedia of some sorts, to give herself a general overview of Human Realm substances. She sighs and crosses over to the encyclopedia section of the library. There’s the _Encyclopedia of Realms and Portals_ , the _Witch’s Guide to Humans_ , and the _Alchemical Compendium of Known Substances._ All these should do nicely. 

She yanks them out, storms over to a library desk, and plops the stack down. _Alright. Research time._

She’s barely opened the _Encyclopedia of Realms and Portals_ when she glimpses a flash of movement over the top of the book. She closes it with a snap and peers in the general direction of the movement. Maybe she’s just paranoid, but she feels weird about it. Usually people don’t really… run… or even move around that much in the library. Well, her agitated pacing the other day was an exception. Seriously, what kind of ink did Luz use? 

Amity groans and slams her head down on the desk. _Why can’t I stop thinking about her? Barely three days since her arrival and I… I…_

_I see her._

Amity sits straight up. There’s that quick flash of movement again, and she definitely isn’t hallucinating it: Luz ducks behind a shelf, right in front of her. _What’s she up to?_

It’s impossible to concentrate on her research when she knows that Luz is occupying the same space as she is. Even worse, Luz keeps _appearing_ in the library. Like, visibly. That’s not fair. Amity is merely suspicious, of course, because Luz is obviously up to some sort of mischief, and she’s probably the only one in all of Hexside who truly knows how dangerous and morally corrupt the human is. Luz being allowed to physically occupy space in the library is therefore unfair to both her and everyone else trying to concentrate. 

Amity darts a quick glance around at the other students at their desks. Well, they actually seem to be concentrating just fine. But that’s just because they haven’t seen Luz! Because they don’t know the things she knows. She needs to… observe Luz. For the good of the school. To make sure the human doesn’t pull anything funny. 

Luz is now browsing the shelf right in front of Amity. _Suspicious._

She cautiously opens the encyclopedia again, peeking over the top. Obviously, she can’t let Luz see that she’s looking, because then she’ll seem weird and desperate, but she still needs to—oh, no. Luz pauses and looks straight at her, and Amity squeaks and slides down in her chair until the book obscures her entire face. _This is bad. She didn’t see me looking, did she?_

Amity doesn’t dare sit up, so she stays slouched like a—like a B+ student. How undignified. But she has no choice. After all, she has no idea when Luz will leave, when it will be safe to come out without fear of embarrassment, so she must. Stay. Put. (No matter how much her spine starts to ache, which it does, a lot.)

A slender finger drapes itself on the binding of the encyclopedia, and Luz snaps it shut, grinning.

“Hey there, Little Miss Perfect~” she murmurs.

“Hello, _delinquent._ ”

Luz smiles and winks. “That’s me, I guess. What’re you studying?”

“None of your business,” Amity hisses, pulling the books closer towards her.

“Ooh!” Luz exclaims, hopping up to _sit on the desk_ like an uncivilized barbarian. “You’ve got a _Witch’s Guide to Humans_ here… what, thinking on the best way to take me out?”

“Take you _down_.”

“Aw, man! And here I was, waiting for you to show me a good time.”

Amity ignores that. The human just wants to distract her. She can’t let it work. She has to stay on track. Her mission. Right. Getting rid of the reputation-threatening graffiti. “Noceda, what the hell did you use to graffiti that stall?”

Luz beams. She winks again and places her hand in the shape of an L on her chin as she says, “It’s a little bit of human magic called black Sharpie marker.”

Amity stares. She’s never heard of that before. “How do I remove it?”

“Welllllll… I’ve got a little bit of a human potion called hand sanitizer that can take it off if you want… for a price.”

Amity has never heard something so threatening before in her life. “Dare I ask, what’s the price?”

Luz grins in satisfaction, like Amity has just fallen into her trap. Amity’s insides plummet.

“Prove me wrong,” Luz challenges, leaning close to Amity’s face. “Prove my graffiti wrong. Prove that you don’t wanna kiss me.”

Amity’s lips part in shock. _How many times in the span of three days can this human invade my personal space like this?_

Luz waits, watching her expectantly. Amity flushes. Of _course_ she doesn’t want to kiss Luz. She stares stubbornly into those deep brown eyes. The last time she stared into Luz’s eyes for this long was on the first day, in the bathroom, when Luz… licked her lips in that way. Her lips became darker in color, more vibrant, more inviting when she did that. It occurs to Amity that she doesn’t remember what Luz’s lips look like normally. 

Almost involuntarily, her gaze flickers downward. Luz’s lips look… 

“You lose,” Luz says decisively, straightening up and slamming her hands on the desk for emphasis. “Or, should I say… you _Luz_.”

She throws her head back and cackles silently in Amity’s spluttering face. Then, she makes finger guns, clicks her tongue, and spins around in a circle.

“I hate you,” Amity finally stammers out.

“Nah.”

“I HATE you.”

“Nah.”

The librarian crosses the floor and glares at both of them. “SHHHHHH. Get out.”

Luz opens her mouth to argue, but Amity sighs, growls a “let’s go,” and drags her out by the arm. Amity’s hand doesn’t even go all the way around Luz’s arm. It’s so… firm. 

As soon as they reach the main hallway, Amity drops Luz and shuffles away like she’s been burned. “Give me the hand santinizer, Noceda.”

Luz snorts. “Nah.”

“You absolute nincompoop! Just give it to me! And can’t you say anything else?”

“Nah.”

“Gah! My life was _perfect_ before you came into it. I wish you’d leave me alone!”

Luz laughs. “You know, this morning, I was actually thinking about doing that. I wasn’t sure if I should keep wasting my time on you.”

“Then why are you still talking to me?!”

“You see, Amity,” Luz says slyly, with that terrifying twinkle in her eye. “I think we should make a little bet.”

_Oh no._

Luz continues. “How about… if you win, you can ask me to do whatever you want and I’ll do it—give you my hand sanitizer, leave you alone forever, anything.”

Amity’s heart beats wildly with the possibilities. “And if you win?”

“Well,” Luz chuckles. “I think my reward would be in the act of winning itself.”

Amity narrows her eyes. She can hazard a guess as to what this bet might be about. “Not gonna happen, Noceda.”

“Oh, it will. I bet I can get Hexside’s Little Miss Perfect to crack by this Friday.”

Amity rolls her eyes. “What do you mean by crack?”

“Admit that you want me,” Luz breathes, holding out a hand for Amity to shake. Amity takes it. It’s just as warm and light as she remembers. “Because I know you do.”


	4. Thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The banter, witch's duel, and potions accident no one asked for but I delivered regardless.

Amity has had three unsuccessful, very bad, no good days in a row this week. 

_ I mustn’t lose today. _

It’s Thursday, with the potions block schedule again, which means she’ll have to see Luz and also work with her, ugh, and she’s been trying not to think of her or worry too much about that bet. There’s no way she’ll lose. Like, Amity has the greatest self-control in the entire world. Not that she would need to control herself! Because, of course, she’s a normal witchling. It’s not like she spends all day trying to stop herself from jumping Luz’s bones, because that would expend a lot of energy, and she’s clearly too efficient to have that problem. 

Aaand now she’s thinking about Luz again. How horrid. Everywhere that Luz shows up becomes chaos, including the tangle in her mind. So she should stop. Thinking. About. Her.

Amity thinks instead about the bathroom graffiti. All she has to do is keep away from Luz for one more day… well, until Friday when the last bell rings… actually, technically, Friday at midnight… and then she’ll win! She’ll be able to scrub the bathroom vandalism out of the public view and scrub Luz out of her life… forever…

“Miss Blight, will you demonstrate a complex variation of a simple spell for the class?”

Amity jumps to her feet, perfect smile ready on her face. “Absolutely, ma’am. I shall demonstrate the recalibration of the magical energies in the spell circle of the light spell to mimic the effects of the fire spell.”

***

Passing period. Luz deliberately hijacks Amity’s schedule and crosses her path. 

Amity puts her nose in the air as soon as she sees the offending human. “How was class, delinquent? Learned any manners?”

Luz drapes herself on Amity’s shoulders, stopping Amity in her tracks. “I’m a good, good girl now,” she purrs into Amity’s neck, her body a warm weight pressing itself to Amity’s back.

Amity ducks away and sniffs. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“You wanna see it? Turn around, Little Miss Perfect.”

Amity whirls, an insult ready on her lips. Luz stretches dramatically against the lockers, posed coyly and sultrily at the same time, her head tipped back to reveal the column of her throat. Something not entirely unpleasant twists in Amity’s stomach.

She turns and walks away without saying anything, as quickly as she can manage.

***

After second period, as Amity’s walking to the library, Luz catches up with her again. Amity pretends not to see her, looking straight ahead. 

“Oh, Amity,” Luz sighs. “Amity, Amity, Amity.”

“That’s my name, Noceda. Don’t wear it out.”

They turn a corner.  _ Straight forward. Straight past. Don’t look at her. _

“You know…” Luz starts. “If you want, I could let you wear MY name out. Then we’d be even.”

“On what occasion would I ever need to refer to you by your first name?”

“I dunno, I just feel like it’d be weird for you to be screaming ‘Noceda’ every night. Feels impersonal, ya know?”

_ The sheer nerve of her.  _ “How presumptuous of you, Noceda,” Amity growls.

“Remember when you spilled apple blood on me on Tuesday?”

“No,” Amity says, though the image of that might actually be seared into her brain forever.

“Remember when you walked away in a gay panic this morning?”

“That didn’t happen,” Amity says.

“Remember when you outright denied two facts to my face, like, two seconds ago?”

Amity doesn’t respond. Instead, she whirls around and starts walking in the opposite direction.

“Amity! It's a free period! Where are you going?”

“I’m going to… office hours. Don’t you dare follow me.”

Luz does, in fact, follow her. Even worse, she tries to be helpful and interested in the subject matter Amity is studying. Amity nearly commits murder when her Abominations professor remarks on her “supportive and smart new girlfriend” and Luz turns to her with her horrible shit-eating grin. 

***

Curiously enough, by the time lunch rolls around, Luz is nowhere to be seen. Instead, the girl who runs up to Amity in the hallway is one of the lower-echelon witchlings in the hierarchy of her social group. 

“Um, Amity,” she mumbles. “I uh… I just wanted to maybe… uh let you know…”

Amity is in no mood to entertain this. “ _ What. _ ”

“There’s uh… I don’t know if you know but… I was um…”

“WHAT.”

“There’s words on the mirror about you in the bathroom and you should probably go check it out.”

The girl says this in a rush and rushes off. 

There is a dreadful feeling stirring in the pit of Amity’s stomach. This sense of foreboding accompanies her and escalates as she pushes past throngs of lunch-goers heading in the opposite direction, marching stiffly down the hall. Finally, she throws open the oft-abused bathroom door and stands, appalled, fists on her hips, staring at the latest obscenity Luz has committed. 

Luz has taken that "black sharp marker" and written in cursive on the  _ damn mirror _ this time: "Amity Blight carnally desires Luz Noceda xoxo uwu" with a few hearts thrown in for decoration. 

She doesn’t even know what “uwu” is supposed to  _ mean.  _

It’s probably something horrifying.

Luz has crossed a line. Several lines. Amity is actually surprised at herself—she would have thought that she’d be boiling over with rage by now, but she instead feels something cold and brittle settle over her, something not unlike the unamused blank mask Luz had worn yesterday morning. 

First. How dare the human write something so dirty.

Second. How dare she put it in a public place.

Third. How dare she sign her own name.

Amity turns slowly and walks out of the bathroom, heels clicking imperiously as she makes her way down the hall to the cafeteria. When she gets there, she throws open the doors as dramatically as she can, and without preamble, addresses the stunned student body: “Where is the human.”

A sea of confused and unsure mumbles greets her.

“That’s okay,” Amity says quietly, with a vicious undertone. “I’ll hunt her down myself.”

She proceeds to check the entire school. Classroom after classroom, up and down flights of stairs, closet after balcony, Amity searches at an even pace, slight smile frozen solid on her face, blood thundering through her head. 

Finally, she returns to the first floor. Perhaps part of her has known the whole time that Luz was going to be here. Amity takes a deep breath and pushes open the door to the Potions classroom.

Luz is there, hunched over their table in the back, head bent forward over their simmering cauldron so that Amity can’t see her face, just her beanie. 

Amity’s heart pounds like it’s trying to beat right out of her chest. She clenches her fists in determination and stalks up the aisle.

Luz hears the click of her shoes and looks up, a sunny smile on her face. “Hey, Ami, I came in early to work, and I’m done with the first half! The cold half! Of our project! Isn’t this great? We’re not behind anymore. I told you I could be smart! And be a real Hexside witch!”

Amity falters briefly at the affectionate shortening of her name but regains her composure by the end of Luz’s happy monologue. She lets every bit of her emotion flow into her body, a sort of cold, controlled rage.  _ Breathe in. Breathe out. Prepare to receive the flames soon. _

“You’re fucking dead, Noceda.”

Luz doesn’t seem to grasp the seriousness behind her tone, and laughs. “So you found my bathroom art! Still not willing to concede defeat and ask for the human potio—HOLY SHIT!”

Amity smirks, crackling with blue flame. The fire dances all around her, surrounding her in a cool azure glow, but if the heat does reach her skin, she doesn’t feel it. When she stands on her toes, she almost feels like she’s floating with the force of her aura. She’s almost as tall as Luz.

“You crossed several lines today, human.”

Luz’s eyes widen. “Oh—oh, I’m sorry then—”

“Don’t apologize,” Amity smiles sweetly, and steps closer. She relishes Luz’s little flinch away from the heat. “How about let’s settle this the old-fashioned way.”

For once, Luz seems a bit concerned. “How…?”

Amity leans towards Luz (for once). “Luz Noceda. I challenge you to a witch’s duel.”

***

The rules are simple. Meet in the gym in ten minutes. Anything goes. The first to admit defeat loses. 

Amity paces. She’s let her fire die down in preparation for the duel. She’s never seen Luz fight before. She’s got no idea of how good Luz might be. 

Still. Luz is a human. She doesn’t have a bile sac. It’s impossible for her to perform organic magic. This will be a cinch.

Time feels like it’s passing quickly. But also slowly. Everything feels short. Chopped into brief seconds. 

Amity paces.

Someone pushes the door to the gymnasium gently open. Luz peeks in, eyes wide. “I really am sorry, you know, and I—”

“Save it, human,” Amity snaps. “I’ll get my apology when I have you kneeling before me.”

It’s a miracle that Luz doesn’t make an innuendo out of that and instead lowers her eyes. “So it’s back to ‘human’ then. Ami, I don’t want to fight you.”

“Too bad,” Amity sneers. She conjures a fireball in her right hand, blazing white with heat. “Because I want to fight  _ you. _ ”

She hurls it at Luz. 

Luz throws herself out of the way, tucking and rolling across the hardwood floor. The fireball leaves a column of black soot behind, which quickly disappears as the school property magically cleans itself. 

Luz quickly springs up, eyes blazing. “Oh, you want a fight, Blight? I’ll give you one.”

She removes her hat for the first time, letting dark, silky waves of hair cascade down her back. Amity blinks. For a brief flash of a second, looking at Luz with her wild, luscious hair and snarling expression and appropriate Hexside uniform, Luz almost looks like… like a proper witch.  _ Too bad appearances aren’t everything. _

As Luz tosses her beanie to a corner of the gym, she’s temporarily distracted and facing away from Amity. It’s the perfect opportunity for Amity to hurl a stream of flames at her, which washes completely over Luz’s right arm, consuming the entire sleeve of her uniform. To Amity’s surprise, Luz spins around and laughs darkly instead of yelping in pain. 

Upon a closer look, Amity sees telltale ink markings of the black human instrument running up and down Luz’s skin. She doesn’t recognize the glyphs and patterned symbols.

“Instant healing and shield glyphs,” Luz smirks at her. 

Amity snarls and hurls another blast of fire, this time at Luz’s unprotected face. Luz bends backwards, letting the stream pass over her head. Amity advances and follows through with a wide arc of orange flame twice as tall as Luz, impossible for her to dodge. To her great surprise, Luz drops to the floor, sweeps her leg around in a wide circle, drawing a spell circle with her shoe. A large pillar of ice erupts from the floor and catapults Luz into the air. Amity’s fire slams into the ice, hissing and steaming and sizzling, melting it to a torrent of cold water that crashes down over Amity. 

Amity splutters, wet and bedraggled, her magnificent hair plastered to her face and sticking over her eyes. A quick summoning of fire dries her completely, sending wisps of steam curling up into the air, and just in time, too, because a heartbeat later, Luz plummets from the ceiling, sprawling straight into Amity and sending both of them rolling across the floor of the gym. 

“Not fair,” Amity hisses, gazing up at Luz, who has her pinned to the ground, wrists held above her head.

“You said anything goes, Blight.”

Luz reaches into her bra and whips out a little yellow square of paper covered in another glyph. She slaps it onto Amity’s wrists and taps it lightly. Little vines grow from the paper and wrap tightly around them, unyielding to Amity’s worried squirming. She bucks her hips, hard, in an effort to throw Luz off, but Luz clamps her legs tightly around Amity’s thighs, refusing to let her move. 

Amity concentrates.  _ Breathe in. Breathe out. Let the fire fill you up. _

She spits in Luz’s face. And this time, it comes with sparks.

Luz yelps and throws herself back, whirling her arms wildly and slapping at her face. “ _ Ouch. _ ”

While Luz is occupied, Amity rocks her body back and forth a couple of times to gain momentum, then kicks off with her legs, throws her tied wrists to the right side, and performs a perfect roll, twisting her entire body over her left shoulder to land facing Luz on her knees. The vines are still growing rapidly. Amity inhales deeply and breathes fire on them, and they fall away, shriveling and blackening. 

By this time, Luz has recovered and procured another glyph paper, glancing warily at Amity. She taps the paper, and a long, thin blade of ice tapered sharply at the end emerges, the paper crumpling into a hilt. 

“Ice sword. How classy of you, Noceda.”

“What can I say, fire witch extraordinaire? It’s the best way to melt you down.”

Amity and Luz begin circling each other, eyeing one another carefully. 

“Oh, human. You’ll have to come close to me to even try, and I’m not planning on letting you.”

“Oh, Amity. You’ll be letting me  _ come _ right next to you every night soon.”

Amity lunges. Luz sidesteps and hops backwards, scrambling up the bleachers. 

“Trying to get to higher ground isn’t going to help you,” Amity calls, sending three rapid consecutive bursts of fire after Luz. She ducks under the first one, the second one catches her right across the stomach, and the third one sears the clothing off her shoulder.

Luz glares down at Amity. “You really want me out of my clothes that bad? I literally  _ just _ got this uniform! Because  _ you _ wanted me to!”

Amity ignores the exposed skin to the best of her ability. Luz is panting, clearly on the verge of losing and merely putting up a brave face. Her hair disheveled, sweat running down her face, chest heaving, she’s never looked more appealing before.  _ Appealing to burn, _ Amity reminds herself.

Amity climbs the bleachers properly and slowly, snapping her fingers to gather yet another flowering flame. She can see that the shield glyphs on Luz’s shoulder have been burned off, and she’s down to the instant healing glyphs, which are rapidly working to restore shiny, blistered skin to its normal tan while Luz winces and falls to her knees. Her clever little weapon clatters to the floor.

For a moment, Amity feels… bad. And then she eyes the trail of glyphs that disappears under Luz’s clothes and wonders if she has them all over her body. Like,  _ all _ over her body? Surely Luz didn’t have time to put them…  _ everywhere. _ And surely some places might be hard to reach. Amity wonders about this more than she probably should. Because she needs to decide upon an unprotected place to strike, of course. Not for any other—

“I can see the denial going through your brain, Amity.”

“And I can see your mouth begging to be covered.”

Luz smiles and crawls a little closer to Amity. She’s sprawled out completely on the bench now, lying before Amity. “Then cover my mouth, Amity,” she purrs, rearranging herself to prop her chin on her hand, fluttering her eyelashes. 

Amity throws the fire in her hand straight at her face. Luz rolls off the bench, landing with a thump on her stomach on the next one down. 

“Flirting isn’t going to save you, Noceda.”

“You’re not even trying,” Luz huffs, audibly winded from getting her breath knocked out. Still, she manages to get on Amity’s nerves with her goading as she positively moans: “Come on, Amity, harder. I need you to go harder.”

Amity scoffs. Despite all of Luz’s little tricks, this fight is pretty one-sided. Amity closes her eyes, just about to inhale to rebalance her body, when a crumpled little piece of paper hits her in the face. Reflexively, she opens her eyes. Big mistake.

A blinding light—light spell!—assaults her eyes, whiting out her entire field of vision. She screams and flails backwards, rubbing at her eyes, listening frantically for a clue as to what Luz might be doing. Amity hears the clang of footsteps on the bleachers, heading down towards the ground, away from her. She stumbles carefully to her feet, eyes still squeezed shut, fumbling for the railing. 

She hears Luz’s steps limp across the gym to the corner where her hat lies, then cross back to the center… then to the exit…

“You coward!” Amity yells, clutching the railing with a deathly grip as she descends carefully. “Come back and fight me!”

“How about you chase me for once!” Luz shoots back. The gym door slams open and clangs shut. 

Amity blinks her eyes open experimentally, then blinks again, hard, clearing most of the remaining imprints out of her vision. Without further ado, she flings herself down the bleachers and sprints for the doors. The barest hint of smoke trails around a corner, Luz’s uniform clearly still burning and leaving a path for Amity to follow. 

Amity skids unceremoniously around the corner. Luz is still running away from her at full tilt in the thankfully empty hallways, her retreating back rapidly disappearing around another corner. Amity muses to herself that running after Luz in heeled boots is surprisingly easy. Then, a realization hits her: she should be smart about this duel. Luz is currently running down a hallway that wraps around itself, which means that Amity should run back in the opposite direction to catch her head on. Either she’ll run into Luz, or not… which means Luz will be in one of the classrooms. 

She doesn’t run into Luz. Amity tries her best to disguise the noise of her shoes, tiptoeing instead to every classroom door to check if Luz is inside. When she reaches the Potions classroom, she thinks to herself,  _ oh, of course,  _ because that classroom is Luz’s special place, and she’s found her there multiple times already. 

To Amity’s surprise, when she enters the classroom, Luz isn’t immediately visible, cheerfully sitting in the back. Instead, the room is dark and empty, the only light coming from the half-completed Homeostasis Potion glowing a cool blue on Amity’s—on Luz and Amity’s—desk.

Amity steps cautiously forward. Perhaps Luz is hiding somewhere, licking her wounds. Perhaps—

The door slams behind her. Before Amity can whirl around and throw fire, a hand claps over her mouth, and an arm snakes around her waist. 

“Got you,” Luz breathes into her ear.

Amity tries to bite her hand. When that doesn’t work, she starts licking Luz’s palm, but she should have known that wouldn’t deter Luz.

“Oral fixation, huh?” Luz teases. She shifts her left hand back across Amity’s front, caressing her stomach, ending up with a firm grip on her hip bone.

Amity takes this opportunity to twist out of the embrace and duck away. “And you’re a sexual predator,” she hisses back.

Luz laughs, completely unbothered. Her stupid beanie is back on top of her smug head, her beautiful hair tucked and hidden beneath. “So you admit that you’re the prey in this dynamic.”

“No,” Amity retorts, conjuring a flame. “I’m the  _ witch _ in this dynamic.”

Luz steps closer, her eyes hard. “And I won’t let you top me in this fight. So I’m afraid I’m gonna have to even the territory.”

Before Amity has a chance to use magic, Luz pounces on her, tackling her to the ground. Amity shrieks and starts pummeling at her shoulders, but to no avail. Once again, she’s on her back, Luz bearing down over her body, shoving her leg between Amity’s thighs, gripping her mint hair with cruel hands as Amity scores desperate scratches down her back, pressing the barest imprint of teeth into Amity’s neck as she growls, “See, Amity. You might be a bit better at magical fighting… but I can  _ always _ dominate you in a physical fight.”

Amity whimpers, to her own chagrin and dismay. Something about all of this is  _ affecting  _ her in a terrible way, in a way that makes her legs weak, makes her want to stop fighting and give in. It takes all of her will to keep her eyes open and furious, to keep struggling, to scratch at Luz and tug her hair harshly and try to shove her off. 

Finally, with all her strength, Amity digs her nails into Luz’s still-healing shoulders, and Luz howls in pain, lifting enough so that Amity can wriggle out from underneath her. Immediately, Amity loops her arm around Luz’s throat, choking her with the crook of her elbow. Luz’s cheeks flush with effort as she looks up into Amity’s face, lips parted and gasping for air. One of her hands finds its way to grope over Amity’s face, scrabbling around for a grip. Amity does her best to dodge it, but Luz’s fingers enter her mouth, and her nails scrape lightly over Amity’s tongue. The sensation is so weird and surprisingly pleasant and tingly that Amity relaxes her grip and Luz throws her off. 

Amity staggers back against her desk, the two of them panting and looking at each other. Luz seems rather the worse for wear, her clothes ripped to shreds and showing skin in multiple enticing areas, a long scratch scoring her cheek and several more stretching down her back and across her sides. She doesn’t seem tired yet, though, as she pushes off and tackles Amity again. They struggle for the upper hand, planting their feet and trying to shove each other down.

Amity knows she can’t possibly win in terms of sheer strength, so she lets her hands fall limply to her sides.

“Had enough?” Luz rolls her shoulders back, wincing. 

In response, Amity leaps at her, wrapping her legs around Luz’s waist and her arms around Luz’s neck. Luz stumbles, trying to hold up her weight, and Amity fists her hands in Luz’s hair. Luz hisses sharply in pain. “Amity, I can’t hold you up like this forever.”

Luz’s hands find their way under Amity’s skirt, cupping her bottom in a manner far too familiar and firm for Amity’s liking. 

“Hands  _ off, _ Noceda,” she growls, and yanks Luz’s hair, forcefully tipping her head to the side. Amity sinks her teeth into the juncture between Luz’s neck and shoulder. Then, on second consideration, she nudges her mouth slightly up to nip at the soft skin of Luz’s throat.

Luz gasps and shivers, clutching her even more tightly. “Is this you admitting that you can’t keep your hands off me?”

Amity pulls back and glares. “We’re fighting, not fucking.”

Luz appraises her skeptically. “If you say so.”

Warmth suffuses Amity’s face. It’s true that most of her real anger has already left her through their fight in the form of her magic. Still, rising panic at losing face makes her struggle to separate herself from Luz, pushing the human away, a hand on her chest.

Luz lets her gently down to the ground. “Who’s harassing who now?”

“You  _ lost, _ ” Amity declares, prodding Luz again in the chest for emphasis.

Luz shoves her back. Amity huffs.

“How dare you push me?”

“You literally pushed me first,” Luz smiles, an odd layer of affection in her voice that terrifies Amity.

“Shut up, Noceda.” 

“You’re mad because I won the witch duel,” Luz says, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“You can’t win unless I admit it, stupid. And I’ll never admit it.”

“But you’ll admit you want me, right?”

“I don’t want you, Noceda.”

“Really?” Luz pulls her in by the waist. They’re so close to each other, their noses almost touching. Luz begins backing her up into their desk, smirking the whole time. “I think every interaction we’ve had so far just  _ screams _ homoeroticism.”

Amity flushes. She’s on her tiptoes, backed against the desk, one little teeter away from losing her balance. 

“Dr-dream on.”

They stare at each other in the gloom. Luz’s eyes are shining. Amity still wishes the human hadn’t escalated the graffiti, but she honestly can’t be too mad about it now. Luz is pretty battered from their fight, but she’s grinning, and Amity can’t help but sort of smile too. She reaches out a tender, tentative hand to touch the scratch she left on Luz’s cheek.

“Luz, I’m sorry for hurting y—”

The door bangs open. The lights flicker on. 

Amity yelps and jumps back from Luz. Except… there isn’t any room behind her. Her hip crashes painfully into the desk, and her momentum carries her, flailing, rolling over the desk itself. Amity grasps wildly for something to catch herself, but everything happens too quickly, and as she reaches out, she hits her wrist on something hard, there’s a resounding splash, and Amity finds herself sore and winded on the ground, choking as some kind of liquid drips into her eyes.

There’s a stunned silence. Amity can hazily tell that there are people in the doorway looking at her, Luz dropping to her knees beside her and reaching out, broken shards of some material rolling across the floor, and something very wrong beginning to stir in her now that the shock is wearing off.

“Stay back, don’t touch her,” comes the worried, reedy voice of the professor from somewhere in the classroom, but Luz ignores him and reaches out to clasp Amity’s hand.

Luz’s fingers brush her palm, and Amity screams, because they’re blazing hot like she’s never felt before. A deep, gnawing, aching numbness creeps up her wrist from the point of contact, spreading and freezing the muscles in her arm. The feeling slips across her shoulders, trickles down her back, and settles deep into her stomach.

And she’s cold. So, so cold. So cold that it sears hot across her skin, crawling through her blood, and she doesn’t know if she’ll ever be able to move again, or maybe if she doesn’t start moving now she’ll die. 

“The potion,” Luz murmurs in understanding. 

“Indeed, Miss Noceda,” the professor blinks approvingly. “And you know not to worry because?”

“The symptoms will be gone in twenty-four hours, Ami,” she says reassuringly. 

Amity manages a quick, jerky nod.

“Sorry,” Luz says. Amity doesn’t know if she’s trying to take blame for the fall, or just expressing sympathy.

“You won’t be expected to come to school tomorrow, Miss Blight, I’ll alert the attendance office, though you’re free to come if you want, of course, although may I ask what on the Boiling Isles actually happened here?”

Luz starts, “Sir, it was my—” but Amity cuts her off. 

“I tripped. Startled. Accident.”

It takes a lot for her to speak. There’s this horrible, sharp, piercing tingling in her teeth, in the very roots of her teeth, and the pain goes straight to her brain. 

“Lie still, Amity,” Luz whispers. “He’s calling your parents to pick you up.”

***

Amity moodily throws another blast of fire into the fireplace of her bedroom. She’s wrapped in blankets, and the sharp bite of the cold has died down. Over the next few hours, the potion should settle into even more numbness. Then, during the night, her body will produce a frenzied fever to try to restore her internal temperature. After that, the next day, there'll be a period of dizziness and "weirdness" before it gradually fades out of her system. These are the symptoms that Luz recited for her, and knowing what's coming helps Amity brace for it.

Her parents weren't happy with her. She doesn't want to dwell on the way they yelled at her for being clumsy and causing an accident. 

Amity breathes on her hands and huddles closer to the fireplace. The chill comes from somewhere deep in her bones, somewhere that the surface heat on her skin can't possibly reach. 

She's going to school tomorrow. Partly because of her parents, partly because of her own academic rigor…

Titan. She's so  _ cold. _

She thinks about Luz. Amity shivers a bit, regretting her unrestrained emotion in the heat of the moment that made her aim to maim and expect Luz to dodge. Luz is… a better person than what she's been used to. Luz is  _ nice. _ Luz is the most interesting person she's ever met. 

It's barely been a week and Amity already can't imagine life without Luz in it. She's too cold to let herself relax enough to fall asleep, but she closes her eyes anyway, turning her face to the flickering light from the fire. Images of Luz fill her mind and warm her in a way that nothing else can.

At some point, she falls asleep there, huddled on the ground, a fond smile on her face. 

(While everyone's waiting for the spicy finale, look at this fanart people on the Diakko/Lumity server found on Twitter! First image is literally what's going on in this fic)  
(Also this is my first time using HTML so I really hope it works)

Aweirdlatina (@Aweirdlatina) [Beta Lumity fanart October 15, 2020](https://twitter.com/Aweirdlatina/status/1316586063616454657?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was Amity mad enough to swear? Yes. 
> 
> Did Amity finally call Luz by her first name? Also yes.


	5. Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long-awaited conclusion to the... worst week of Amity's life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of your patience. :D
> 
> Here it is.
> 
> (Check out @aweirdlatina on Instagram and Twitter. This person doesn't know me at all probably, but their art is sooo good and their beta lumity art specifically really captures the fighting and flirting vibe of this fic.)

Amity has a restless, hazy night. She tosses and turns in her little nest of blankets on the floor, haunted by weird dreams and tired visions and a persistent headache that makes her furrow her brow while she sleeps. 

At some point during the night, she gets unbearably hot and suffocates in the blankets, the fire roaring steadily beside her, her throat parched and tongue swollen. She remembers blearily fumbling awake, stumbling into the adjoining bathroom and drinking water straight from the tap, then staggering back to her bedroom to tear her clothes off and slump back on top of the blankets on the floor. 

Later, a cold draft shivers across her skin and sends her burrowing into the covers, drawing them close around her as she falls into another uneasy sleep. Surrounded by softness gently pressing into her bare skin, her dreams even out and her shoulders relax.

Amity barely recalls any of this when she wakes up the next morning in a sticky, shivering mess. The last vestiges of a dream she had haunt her—a sly smirk, an aching need, sliding and pressing and moaning underneath a warm brown body, delicious visions and feelings that make her tingle all over despite the dull cold. She keeps her eyes closed for a minute, relishing what she can remember of the dream, chasing the, the sheer  _ goodness _ of how it felt to say  _ Luz, more, I need you, _ even if it was just her imagination.

Then she groans and decides to try her best to struggle awake.

The fire in the fireplace has died down, only barren ash remaining. Her cheek is pressed painfully into the rug, her throat once more dry and begging for water. She’s trapped completely in the blankets, wrapped in a tight cocoon and unable to struggle out. Even worse, the blankets are absolutely soaked with sweat, clammy and cold against her skin. 

Amity yawns. Her fingers and toes are absolutely aching with numbness, but there’s a wholly unbearable heat emanating from the center of her body. She tries to shift around, but the blankets trap her arms against her body, both hands stuck firmly between her legs. 

Amity considers this tiredly. Every inch of her skin feels sweaty and sticky and absolutely disgusting, made worse by the fact that she’s completely naked against the soiled sheets. With some degree of effort, she struggles out of the tangle, hopping unceremoniously for balance. When she finally manages to extricate herself, she leans tiredly on the doorframe leading into the bathroom, a headache pounding through her forehead.  _ Maybe a hot shower will fix this? _

The hot shower does not fix it. Well, the scalding water strips away all the sweat on her skin and leaves it feeling raw and soft and tender and  _ clean, _ which is the most important part. But it doesn’t fix the chill that persists in her bones. She stands there for a while under the steaming spray, catching some water in her mouth and spitting it back out. It’s so hot that it feels like it’s burning her teeth. 

Amity wonders what she would do if Luz were in the shower with her. For a brief second, her mind goes to question itself, but she shoves it all aside.  _ No. No denial. I didn’t—no bet either. I never said I didn’t want her. I never said I didn’t not want her either. I just—no. No thinking. _

If she pretends that she doesn’t actually exist, her mind can’t judge her. Exactly. Her mind can’t judge the thoughts of someone who doesn’t exist. 

So she thinks about Luz, about her favorite thing that she does, which is pin her to some surface and hold her by the wrists, and how she wishes Luz would keep doing that to her every day, forever, maybe even today, and how unfortunate it is that she isn’t there to do it to her right now in the shower and whisper in her ear and press their bodies close and maybe relieve the unbearable ache inside her. The hot water runs out before she can do it herself, though, and Amity curses the time she wasted catching water in her mouth when she could have been thinking more about Luz.

Since she technically doesn’t have to go to school today, Amity doesn’t bother with the uniform. It’s kind of funny. All that time she spent obsessing over the damn uniforms, and today she and Luz both won’t be wearing them, seeing as she kind of… broke Luz’s. 

Instead, Amity dresses to feel strong. First, she dries her hair with magic and throws the bushy mess up in her usual style. Then, she procures a fresh set of… pastel pink cotton panties and a white bra with a little pink bow in the middle.  _ Damn it! I hate that Luz was right about me. _

Then she pulls on tight black leggings, a casual pink dress with lace trimming around the hem, and her own stompy heeled boots. They’re not  _ delinquent _ stompy, more like… intimidating businesswoman stompy. Perfect.

She feels tough. She feels ready. She is going to absolutely kill it.

***

Amity absolutely is not killing it. She insisted on going to Hexside herself, fueled by her sheer determination not to let a little potion handicap herself. She had a clear mission, to find Luz and… talk about everything that happened yesterday and also go talk to the teacher together to see what will happen to their grade.  _ Ugh! _

But almost as soon as Amity reaches Hexside, the dizziness starts up, and she almost faints while going up the steps.  _ How embarrassing. _

Then, stupid Principal Bump tells her that she should go find the healers, and then the healers get all excited about her rare potion spill and want to bring her in to a Healing Track class for stupid students to  _ see her _ and  _ practice on her _ while she lies stretched out on an examination table, which is really just too much.

“Come on, class, Miss Blight won’t bite,” the healing teacher encourages the terrified juniors. 

One of them approaches cautiously, hands held out and ready. Amity makes eye contact with them and raises an eyebrow, arms crossed belligerently. 

“Eep,” they say, rapidly retreating into the crowd. 

“Come—come on now,” the teacher says, a bit desperately. “This is a really good chance to practice using the techniques we learned to tell which magical energies are out of balance in a witch’s… body… no one? Really?”

Amity sighs. The dizziness is slowly transitioning to a pounding headache. And she’s bored.

Suddenly, the door slams open, and Luz is standing there. Amity perks up.  _ I had no idea she was also interested in Healing. What, is she taking every possible class? Does she not even have free periods? _

“Sorry I’m late,” Luz gasps. “Overslept. Heh, you know… still uh, getting used to being a transfer?”

The teacher looks disapprovingly at her. “Well, alright. If you care to come late to my class, how about you participate in the exercise no one else seems to want to do?”

Luz finally sees Amity, and her eyes widen, bag sliding slowly off her shoulder. “Why’s she here?”

The teacher sniffs. “We finally get a chance for hands-on potions imbalance work, and the entire class is  _ afraid _ to put their hands on a patient’s body. I can’t imagine what you lot will be like as acting healers. Hmph!  _ Afraid _ to touch a patient.”

Luz smiles, and Amity’s stomach swoops. “I’m not afraid to touch Amity,” she says. “Of course I’ll participate.”

Amity flushes. She’s still not over the effects of her dream. If Luz touches her, she might actually  _ do something. _ Luz already looks  _ like that, _ wearing the same (hot! cool!) outfit she wore on Monday, back when Amity didn’t have her in her life and didn’t even know what she was missing. There’s no way she can let Luz touch her. Especially not in front of other people.

“I—maybe I’ll just go see the official school hea—”

But Luz is right there, smiling down into her face, her palms hovering over Amity. She looks up briefly to address the class while Amity admires the curve of her jawline: “Okay, so I know I don’t have that fancy magic bile sac so I can’t do some of the diagnostic magic the traditional way, but I spent a while researching last night, seven hours to be exact, specifically investigating this potion, and I figured out ways to…”

Amity stops paying attention to what she’s saying.  _ Seven hours? Researching for… me? _

She stares up into Luz’s face. Those warm brown eyes are filled with affection and care and apology, and it’s almost too much for Amity to bear. Luz puts a hand on her chest, over her heart. Amity gasps. So does the rest of the class. 

Amity turns and glares at them.  _ How dare they exist here in the same space as Luz and I.  _

Luz moves her palm slowly over Amity’s collarbones, pressing into her skin, her brow creased in concentration. Every point of contact she makes with Amity’s skin tingles wildly and makes her want to give in, to submit right now in front of everyone. Arousal and panic intertwine within her, and Amity sits up wildly, pushing Luz off.

“Amity! Are you okay? Sorry, did I hurt you?”

Luz reaches out a hand to cup Amity’s cheek, and that’s the final straw. Amity draws back as quickly as she can.

“Ow,” Amity says, rather dryly.  _ Darn. That wasn’t convincing at all. _ “Um, owww. I feel weird. Let me go to the actual school healers!”

She starts scrabbling at the table beneath her, trying to swing her legs off the side, but the dizziness returns and makes the entire room spin until she doesn’t know which way is up, except that she’s falling awkwardly off the table, landing in a crumpled heap on the ground.

Luz looks down at her, then back up at the teacher. “I’ll take her to the healers,” she volunteers.

Amity doesn’t see the class standing on the other side of the table, but the teacher must have given approval, because Luz kneels down beside her. 

“Aaaand… scoop!” 

Amity suddenly finds herself in a bridal carry, nestled in gentle arms that make her feel warmer instantly. One of Luz’s arms curls around her shoulders, searing her upper arm, while the other loops enticingly under her thighs. As Luz begins walking out the door, Amity carefully winds her own arms around Luz’s neck and presses her face into Luz’s soft chest. 

It’s really nice there. This week has been really tiring. Amity doesn’t even want to think about the work she’s missing today or the Abominations exam that’s still next week. Maybe she’d just like to pass out here, in Luz’s arms, and never leave. Maybe she’d like to hide her face in Luz’s body forever.

“The healers are this way, right?”

“Yes,” Amity mumbles into Luz’s shirt without actually looking. She’s still slightly cold. She needs to get closer to Luz. If she touches Luz more, she’ll be warmer.

“Amity, stop trying to climb me. You’re so squirmy that you’re getting hard to hold.”

“Mmmf,” Amity protests.

There’s a sigh. Then, Luz says, “I’d usually say something corny and flirty right now, but I’m too worried about you.”

Amity nearly sobs.  _ Luz is… worried about me? She actually… cares? _

No one else has actually cared about her before.

Amity chokes out, “Well—well, say it anyway! I want to hear!”

Luz sighs again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were…”

She drops Amity. Amity screeches, her stomach flying up into her throat, reaching wildly up for Luz. Before she hits the ground, Luz catches her snugly, laughing. “...falling for me.”

“You idiot,” Amity exclaims, flushing and stumbling to her feet. Luz steadies her by the shoulders, wrapping her close. She smells so  _ good. _

Two witches in Illusion Track uniforms meander by, chatting. They break off and stare when they see Amity. 

“Come on,” she hisses, tugging at Luz’s arm. “I can’t be seen like this in public.”

“Wait, aren’t we going to the healers?” Luz yelps as Amity pulls her into a storage closet and slams the door behind them.

“No,” Amity says. Just that. No.

It’s dim in the closet, but Amity can see the shine of Luz’s eyes as she scrutinizes her. “Amity. What are you so afraid of?”

Amity presses her lips together thinly. “I don’t… I can’t be seen as less than perfect. It’s been bad enough this past week, I… I have to keep up appearances.”

Luz frowns. “Why do you care what others think? I think you’re perfect just being you.”

Amity sighs. “Luz, my image… it’s complicated.” Her voice hardens. “And thanks a lot for actively trying to ruin me.”

Luz twists her lips in sympathy. “Sorry,” she says, picking Amity up by the waist and setting her on a little counter. “I didn’t know it was that serious. For what it’s worth, I did go erase my writing yesterday after school. I really didn’t mean to be an asshole about it, you were just being a complete bitch when I tried to be friendly and chat you up the normal way, and wow, sorry, this doesn’t sound like an apology at all. I should let you talk. Um. Sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”

Her hands linger on Amity’s hips. Amity doesn’t know if it’s the remaining bits of the potion’s effects or if it’s just Luz, but she can feel the warmth blazing through her dress in the outlines of Luz’s handprints. 

“I—maybe not now,” Amity shivers. “Will you… keep touching me.”

Luz raises an eyebrow at her.

“Not—not like that!” Amity protests halfheartedly.  _ Yes, like that. _ “Just… it feels better. Because I’m sick? From the, the potion.”

“Well, alright,” Luz says, stepping closer between Amity’s legs. (Ha. Luz is a little shorter now.) She gives Amity a warning look. “But just because you’re… suffering, I guess.”

She starts running her hands lightly up and down Amity’s sides, gentle, feathery strokes that tingle and burn through her dress. It’s not enough.

“More,” Amity moans, fists clenched in her dress, thinking of her dream.

Luz appraises her skeptically. “Um… okay.”

It must be almost lunchtime. Almost twenty-four hours since the accident. Definitely, since today’s lunch is earlier in the day than yesterday. Amity can feel the effects tapering off; she’s barely even cold anymore, but she still pretends to shiver. She blushes furiously as she contemplates what she’s about to do, but it’s just her and Luz there, it’s fine, and she can pretend it’s not really her desire. 

Amity pulls up her dress with one hand and grabs Luz’s wrist with the other, dragging it under her clothes and onto her stomach. Luz’s eyes widen and gaze into hers searchingly, her palm still and flat and  _ warm _ against Amity’s skin.

“Please,” Amity begs. “ _ Please.  _ Please just keep touching.”

Luz stands there frozen, fingertips still and unmoving on Amity’s bare skin. Amity searches her eyes desperately.  _ Didn’t you want this? Didn’t you want ME? Was this just a game to you? _

“Luz… please?”

Luz looks at her expressionlessly for a while. Then, her mouth curves, and she withdraws her hand from under Amity’s skirt. “...nah.”

Amity sits there thunderstruck. “What? Why not?”

Luz steps back and crosses her arms. “I’m too smart for you to pull tricks like this, Amity.”

Amity juts her bottom lip out. “What do you mean?”

“I know exactly what you’re trying to do. You do want me, but you don’t want to admit it, so you’re going to use me to satisfy your urge and then turn around and tell me, ‘Eoh, Noceda! Thaht wasn’t me! My cahliber is tew high for this! ‘Twas all the pohtion that fohrced me into doing this!’ Well, I’m not going to put up with that absolute bullshit.”

“I don’t sound like that,” Amity mutters. Luz’s stupid hoity toity accent isn’t an accurate impression of her at all. But how dare she understand Amity so well.

“Amity, I  _ know _ you’re not being affected anymore. I researched this. I need you to tell me that you’re the one making the decision.”

“Oh, so  _ now _ you worry about explicit consent?”

“...yeah?”

“Please.”

“Please  _ what, _ Amity?”

“Please… just touch me? Does it matter?”

“Oh, Amity. You don’t get what you want until you tell me exactly what I want to hear.”

Amity flushes. It’s absolutely imperative that she retain whatever little shred of dignity she has left. She can plead, she can beg, but she cannot concede defeat. “No. I don’t know what you want to hear. I just want you to  _ touch _ me, you idiot.”

“ _ Oh _ ,” Luz says, leaning in. “You mean like this?”

Her hand runs slowly up the inside of Amity’s thigh, her fingers smooth trails of lightning on her skin that she can feel even through the layer of leggings, and Amity wants, no, needs, so badly that it practically hurts when she clenches on nothing. 

Luz never breaks eye contact as she leans so close that her lips practically hover over Amity’s, her breath warm. Her hand traces Amity’s thigh so close to where Amity needs it, an unbearably teasing touch. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” Amity gasps.

“Be more specific.”

“Kiss me,” Amity pleads, straining forwards. Luz breaks out into a beautiful, triumphant smile that shows all her teeth. 

“Well, well, Blight,” Luz laughs, staying out of Amity’s reach. “How far you’ve fallen.”

“Please, Luz,  _ Luz, _ please—”

Luz leans forward, her hand tightening on Amity’s thigh, and for a brief, euphoric moment, Amity thinks she’s won, they’re about to kiss, but no—Luz leans past her, their cheeks nearly touching, her lips hovering right next to Amity’s ear as she tilts her head and whispers: “ _ Tell me what I need to hear.” _

The warm breath on her ear sends tingles racing down Amity’s spine. She’s never  _ wanted _ so badly before, and Luz is being utterly unbearable, so close and yet so far. Finally, the last remnants of her pride dissipate, her composure cracks, and she sobs: “ _ You win. _ ”

“That’s all you had to say,” Luz breathes, and then as Amity shuts her eyes in relief, there’s a little flurry of movement and a feather-light brush of lips on her own.  _ Yes. _

Then, in the next moment, Amity is whining in frustration again, pitching forward as Luz draws back. Her eyes flutter open, and she glares at the most infuriating human in existence, her annoyance intermingling with desperate arousal. “You’re such a tease,” she snarls. 

And then she throws herself at Luz. Literally. Amity pushes off of the counter, crashing her full weight into Luz, and she flings her arms around her neck, then, as Luz takes a step back, she hops up, hooking her legs around Luz’s waist. There’s a little bit of adjustment as Luz’s hands shoot to her thighs, catching her firmly, then her right hand slides its way up to her rear and Amity wraps herself a little closer, locking her legs so tightly around Luz that she feels a brief bit of relief from pressing her pelvis desperately into Luz. 

Amity pushes forward helplessly, leaning in for a kiss, but she just clumsily bumps her nose into Luz’s forehead—why is Luz looking down anyway?—oh, it’s because she’s staggering back until her shoulders hit the wall, and then, finally, Luz looks up at her through her long eyelashes. Amity’s breath comes heavy with lust, her body burns everywhere it’s pressed against Luz, and the look of barely restrained hunger in Luz’s eyes makes her smolder inside. 

Then, in the next second, they both lean in, falling upon each other, their teeth clicking sharply together with their eagerness, lips parting immediately. The aggressive and immediate press of Luz’s tongue, hot and wet, against her own is absolute heaven. Luz crushes Amity to her chest like she can’t get enough, her fingers curling possessively along Amity's curves, and Amity just about loses her breath as she moans into Luz’s mouth. 

She digs her fingers into the fabric on the tops of Luz’s shoulders, feeling the flex of Luz’s muscles shifting as Luz gropes her body insistently, gripping and kneading her bottom and thighs. It’s a truly great kiss, one that’s fervent and hungry, and for the first time, Amity thinks she feels that element of a kiss she’s  _ supposed _ to feel, that spark she’s read about but never felt with her past… dalliances. Not that she’d want to think about her past, not when Luz flicks her tongue over the point of Amity’s left fang, lingering a little to taste, before gliding smoothly over Amity’s tongue. It’s unbearably tingly, and Amity gasps into her mouth, grip loosening as her knees go weak and her hands start feeling soft and fluttery and utterly useless. 

Luz nips her bottom lip sharply, then pulls back a little to laugh and press another kiss there, smiling against her mouth so that Amity can feel her delight. Amity can also feel that Luz is starting to slide down the wall. With some effort, she pulls away from the kiss. “What, Luz, not strong enough to keep carrying me?”

Luz looks back at her evenly, sliding fully down the wall until she’s sitting against it, hands warm on Amity's sides, and Amity sits straddling her. “Oh, I’m strong enough. I just thought you’d prefer my hands free to do… other stuff.”

Heat rushes to Amity’s face. “Wh-what other stuff?”

“You tell me.”

Amity snarls, mostly out of embarrassment and frustration. “Oh, I hate you, Luz. So while we’re fighting you’re not afraid to act, but now you have to ask me to do everything? Come on, where’s your fight? You’re just—”

Luz pushes her off her lap. In the next moment, Amity squeaks because she’s lying back on the floor, and then Luz is prowling over her, eyes dark and focused. Amity’s breath hitches.  _ Yes. Please. _

“Is this what you wanted, Amity?” Luz straddles her hips and leans forward, wrenching Amity’s wrists above her head. The tips of her hair brush Amity’s cheek, and the excited shiver that passes through Amity’s body definitely does not go unnoticed. “I guess that’s a yes.”

_ It is.  _ Amity smiles as Luz grips her wrists, straddling her heatedly. This is what she’s been waiting for _. _ This never gets old. Amity could probably spend the rest of her life gasping and pleading underneath Luz, rolling her hips upward, clenching desperately on nothing and making a mess out of her underwear. 

“Shut up,” Amity mumbles. “Just kiss me more.”

“One sec,” Luz grins, and adjusts her grip on Amity’s wrists, lacing their fingers together until they’re holding hands, an adorably innocent and dorkish Luz gesture to go along with the fact that Amity has been waiting for what’s felt like a month for Luz to just hurry up and pin her down on some surface and make her scream. But Amity doesn’t say that. 

“How romantic,” Amity says, and she had more to add to this sarcastic quip, but she forgets what she was going to say when Luz captures her lips fervently, and then all Amity can do is moan into her mouth and squeeze her hands tight. 

The ground is hard beneath her, but Amity barely feels it as she drowns in sensations that occupy her completely, her eyes closed in bliss while her lips move of their own accord, molding softly with Luz's. Luz darts out the tip of her tongue and licks the seam of Amity’s mouth, evidently trying her best to shove her tongue aggressively down Amity’s throat. How very like her. Amity doesn’t really mind. Her lips part as she moans into Luz’s mouth, her stomach fluttering, arousal blazing through her. Luz shifts a little, dragging her right leg over to push in between Amity’s thighs for her to grind on, and Amity does so gratefully, clutching Luz’s hands in desperation and twisting her body to helplessly hump Luz’s offered leg. 

Eventually, Luz pulls back from the kiss, and Amity’s eyes flutter open. Luz is smiling, her lips swollen and red and glossy, a strand of saliva connecting their mouths. Amity flushes. How unsanitary and depraved. How utterly, sinfully  _ delicious. _ Luz presses forward to kiss her again, licking the spit thoroughly off of Amity’s lips—she’s forcefully reminded of Monday, in the bathroom—but then Luz pulls back a second time, a shuddering groan rippling through her.

“Let me touch you,” Amity gasps, but Luz ignores her, nosing into Amity’s cheek and planting a trail of kisses along her jawline. Then Amity forgets about making demands in favor of tipping her head back to give Luz more access as she kisses down her neck, sucking vigorously at sensitive skin. It’s like her skin is coming alive under Luz’s tongue, sending little sparks and eddies of arousal twisting through her lower abdomen. She squeezes hard on Luz’s leg, biting back whimpers of delight. 

Luz finally relinquishes her hands, her nails scratching lightly down Amity’s wrists and forearms, coming to rest warmly and firmly on her shoulders while she sucks at the hollow of Amity’s throat. Amity hums in appreciation. Then, Luz drags her lips lower to meet pink fabric, and Amity can feel the frustration in Luz’s fingers that scrabble at the neckline of her dress, trying to pull it lower. 

“Why didn’t you wear something easier to take off?” Luz growls, sitting back on her haunches. 

Amity rolls her eyes, sitting up too. “I didn’t think I was going to be fornicating with you in a dirty closet when I woke up this morning.”

“Suuuure,” Luz drawls. “But you wanted to be. You totally planned all of this.”

“I did not!” Amity exclaims in outrage. “Do you think I dream about engaging in vulgar and lustful activities with you on school property?”

“Well…  _ do  _ you?”

_ Oh. _ Amity wishes she could backtrack that entire invalid rhetorical question. 

“Well, not specifically on school property,” she mutters, looking down, her face hot. “Do—do you?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Well, here again come all Amity’s doubts about what Luz really wants with her.

Luz shrugs out of her jacket and lays it out on the ground, running her hand along the wrinkles. “Amity, I don’t usually dream about people. I dream about, like, these fantasy missions I have to go on where I have to find all the blue plants in the world or else everyone will die of lyme disease—you know what? Irrelevant. I mean, I don’t dream about you or anyone else. But I fantasize about you often.”

“Oh.” Amity curses her own inability to say anything else. Stripped of her jacket, Luz looks smaller, like the playful swagger that puffs her up has been exchanged for something more real to her being. Luz is smiling, hair swinging forward in a mesmerizing way as she pats down and smooths out the jacket. 

“Let—let me touch you,” Amity stammers, reaching out to her.  _ Ugh. I sound like an inexperienced fool. _

Truth be told, Amity kind of is an inexperienced fool. She’s been with a couple of witches before, never making it past second base, as they bored her. But she can’t let her inexperience stop her from getting what she wants. She needs to at least  _ try _ to take back her control. 

“Come here and let me touch you,” Amity repeats authoritatively, offering her hand to Luz with a confident smirk of her own. 

To her surprise, Luz isn’t fazed at all. She surges forward on her knees, clasping Amity’s hand tenderly between both of her own. With a little tug, Luz pulls her in, sending them crashing into each other in a tangled embrace. 

“Touch me how, Amity?”

Amity finds it hard to reply. Luz is running one of her hands up and down her spine, the other caressing the nape of her neck, and it’s  _ so hard  _ to think. “I want to, um, touch you,” she gasps.

The hands on her skin still. “I know that,” Luz laughs. Her hands fall to Amity’s shoulders, fingering the neckline of her dress. Slowly, sensually, Luz drags it down—fear and excitement thrill Amity to the bone—and says, “But let me touch you first.”

Amity just moans. It was a horrible idea to try to take control. Why would she want that when she can just let Luz charm her into delicious submission? She half falls, half leans back on her elbows, cushioned by Luz’s jacket (what a gallant gesture). And as she goes, Luz tugs her dress down to her waist. 

As soon as Luz sees her bra, this horrible and insufferable grin spreads across her face.

“Not a word,” Amity hisses, reaching up to smack Luz on the forehead. 

“Aw, fine. I knew I guessed right though.” Luz leans over her to drag the offending garment down her sides too, not even bothering to unclasp it. Amity yelps as the cool air hits her exposed skin and stiffens her nipples. She’s never bared herself like this to anyone before. With an embarrassed squeak, she hides her face in her hands to avoid seeing Luz’s reaction.

“Are you embarrassed?” Luz teases, tracing a finger down the curve of her chest. 

“ _ Yes, _ ” Amity says pointedly. “You’re wearing more clothes than I am.”

“Well, we can fix that,” Luz laughs, and Amity’s heart skips a beat because she thinks Luz is going to take her shirt off too, and something in her stomach leaps at the thought of being able to see, to touch, to caress and lick and suck—but Luz reaches up to her hat and whips it off, shaking her head dramatically to toss her hair every which way. It’s magnificent. Dark, curly tresses cascade down her shoulders, and Luz reaches out to plop the beanie on Amity’s head. 

“Thanks,” Amity says, dryly. Little wisps of her hair stick up around the beanie, and it flops sideways when she moves. She’s never felt quite so self-conscious ever before.

Luz, however, seems delighted. “You look stupid,” she says, a big smirk decorating her face. “But also hot. I don’t even know where to start.”

Amity huffs. “Stop looking at me and just do something already.”

Luz eyes her hungrily but hovers hesitantly. “I…  _ really _ don’t know where to start.”

Amity throws back her head and laughs. The beanie falls off, thankfully. “Now who looks stupid? All your hard work this week and you don’t even know what to do with your reward.”

“Shut up,” Luz growls, a blush darkening her face. 

“Oh, Luz. All bark and no bite.”

“I’ll show you bite,” Luz snaps, and in the next moment she flings herself on Amity and Amity’s elbows give out and she finds herself on her back once again, gasping and writhing, the sharp pinch of Luz’s teeth mouthing up and down her throat and marking all over her chest. Every pang and imprint Luz leaves lingers hotly on her body like a claim of ownership, and really, she can’t help but shudder delightfully at that. No one has ever made Amity react in this way before, when the simple pain of hot crescents of fingernails digging into her shoulders makes her insides twist in ecstasy. 

Desperate for something to hold, she tangles her hands through Luz’s hair, clenching so hard that her upper arms flex and drive Luz’s nails deeper into her skin. And that shouldn’t be so damn hot, but it is. 

Then Luz tugs lower, away from her grip, raking fiery trails of pain down Amity’s arms as her mouth closes roughly around Amity’s left breast, sucking and swirling her tongue around the tip. Amity moans. This is so much better than she ever imagined: her neck a sea of tingling, rapidly purpling marks, the, hot, wet warmth of Luz’s fervent mouth on her skin, the light scrape of Luz’s nails, now gentle, tracing over the marks left all over Amity’s pale skin.

Amity also relishes the hold she has on Luz’s hair, the first sign of her own dominance over Luz. Just as the beginnings of smugness tighten her grip, however, Luz’s right hand fumbles down and shoves up the hem of Amity’s dress, immediately finding its way to her soaked underwear.

Amity lets out an embarrassing noise somewhere between an “oh” and an “mmm,” her hands instantly flying to cover her mouth. 

Luz looks up at her and withdraws her hand, pouting slightly after she detaches her mouth from Amity’s breast. “I wanna hear you.”

“No,” Amity hisses. “Do you want someone to find us? Idiot.”

She reaches out and jerks Luz’s hair, sending her face plunging right back into her chest. Luz doesn’t complain, going right back to kissing all over her, capturing an areola in her mouth and swirling her tongue around the point. At the same time, her hand sneaks back into Amity’s underwear. Amity’s heart beats wildly, and she clenches in anticipation. After a bit of aimless adjusting, Luz withdraws again, messily tugs her leggings down, then her underwear, and finally slides her fingers down Amity’s soaked center. 

Luz raises her head, a proud smirk on her face. “Wow, I really made you melt, huh? You must really like me.”

Amity tightens her grip in Luz’s hair. “You like me too.”

“This is true,” Luz murmurs, and she leans up for a short, chaste kiss that nevertheless betrays the forcefulness of her manner, leaving a tingling imprint on Amity’s lips. 

Amity keeps her eyes squeezed shut and hands knotted in Luz’s hair, clinging to it like a lifeline as Luz plunges two fingers inside her without hesitation. Amity is so aroused at this point that they enter with no resistance either, and within seconds, she’s trying desperately not to moan as Luz sheathes her fingers to the third knuckle inside her, hooking them forward to grip the ridges at the front of her walls, searching until her fingertips brush a spot that makes Amity mewl and bury her face into the top of Luz's head. 

“You’re so… mmm… good,” Amity pants, twisting her hips. “Do this to a lot of girls?”

“Nah,” Luz mumbles into the crook of her neck. “I learned how to finger from reading sapphic smut of my favorite cartoon ships from the best fic writers on AO3.”

“Th…  _ ah,  _ those words don't make sense to me.”

“You’re missing out, then,” Luz says, and slips her fingers out.

“Luz,” Amity growls. “If you don’t put them back  _ right now, _ I swear I’ll snap your neck.”

Unfazed, Luz brings her hand up to her face, examining the sheen on her fingers curiously. Heat suffuses Amity’s face. “I—you—put that down!”

Luz ignores her, poking the tip of her tongue out to taste. As she wraps her lips around her fingers, sucking them completely into her mouth, she finally looks up at Amity, and Amity just about dies at the look in her eyes. 

“You taste good,” Luz says, her voice a little husky. “I wanna taste you more.”

Amity can’t even find it in herself to be mad at Luz for leaving her hanging, not when Luz is flipping up her skirt and dragging her leggings down even further to press a hot kiss to the inside of her thigh.  _ Oh. _

Amity lets her head tip back and her legs fall apart. 

Luz’s fingers dig softly into her thighs, her teeth graze soft skin, and her tongue licks up Amity’s right thigh. Amity can feel herself trembling, her want only fueled by having Luz actually inside her a few moments ago. She can almost still feel the imprints of her fingers pressing into her walls, the way it felt to be stretched and thrust into like that. As Luz leans forward, and Amity can feel her light breaths cooling her own arousal, she balls her fists in her dress in expectation of feeling even better. 

Luz sits up. “This makes my neck hurt.”

Amity groans. “Luz Noceda, if you keep—”

“Last time, Ami, I promise. Just—hmmm. Let's see.”

Amity whimpers, canting her hips up. “I want your mouth on me,  _ now. _ ”

“No, stand up,” Luz says. “I think if you can lean against the counter it'll—yeah, this will be fine.”

Amity can barely think straight, her mind hazy with desire, but she lets Luz tug her to her feet and arrange her body so that her back leans against the counter and her elbows rest on the surface, propping herself up.

“There we go,” Luz remarks, sounding very satisfied with herself. She drops to her knees.

“Finally,” Amity murmurs. “I have you on your knees before me.”

“And?” Luz asks, shuffling up to her and cupping one hand around Amity's thigh.

“I… you… I'm finally standing above you. Maybe I'm the one who won, and you're… submitting to m—”

“Think again.”

Amity staggers a bit as Luz shoves her legs further apart. Her pants puddle at her ankles, pooling over the tops of her boots, forcing her to bend her knees slightly and make an effort to stay standing.

“Hold up your skirt for me,” Luz demands, and Amity obligingly hitches it up. “Do you feel very in control of this little closet encounter?”

Amity looks down. She's practically naked, clothes bunched either at her waist or her ankles. Her bra is crumpled so far down that it's almost crammed into the waistband of her dress. Dark hickies are starting to appear in large swathes over her chest, and she can see the light sheen of sweat as well as Luz's saliva coating her skin, especially around her breasts, her nipples still achingly stiff. Below her waist, Luz is leaning her cheek against her right thigh, gazing at her sex in rapturous, embarrassing delight. Even worse, a significant amount of Amity's arousal is leaking down the side of her other thigh, and Luz is running her finger through it, spreading it around and massaging the cool slick into Amity's skin. 

In contrast, Luz looks… put-together. Her hair is definitely a bit mussed (Amity shudders to think what her own hair looks like) and her army jacket and beanie lie discarded on the floor behind her, but other than that, she's fully clothed. Her distressed jeans are as rebellious and alluring as ever, her purple shirt with the tantalizing rips even more so, and Amity is pretty sure she's never seen anyone so damn hot before in her life. 

As if tired of waiting, Luz grips her hip bones and inches forward, giving her a long, delighted lick, pressing the flat of her tongue against Amity. The sensation goes straight through her, and Amity can't help but shiver and cry out before she remembers they need to be quiet. 

“So,” Luz grins up at her, sitting back on her heels. “You feeling  _ dominant _ , Blight?”

“N—ngh, I… nnnnghmf.” It's absolutely humiliating, but Amity can't seem to string two thoughts together. 

Instead, she simply tilts her hips closer to Luz’s mouth, and Luz thankfully obliges, burying her face in between Amity’s thighs, at first inhaling deeply, then smiling against her sex, kissing it delicately. Amity desperately shoves herself forward, grinding helplessly on Luz’s face. 

Luz doesn’t resist. In fact, she clutches the backs of Amity’s thighs and pulls her even closer, until Amity can feel her clit grinding on the bridge of Luz’s nose when she licks a determined stripe up her center. 

Amity is already embarrassingly close to unravelling, something inside her stretched taut by days of tension and teasing. Sweat prickles underneath her skin, and Amity clutches the folds of her dress high in her fists, chest heaving, trying her hardest to push against Luz’s tongue even though she’s already almost at the point of collapse, her elbows and knees steadily sliding further and further apart. 

She can feel Luz’s left hand sliding down her thigh too, stopping to brace against her calf while careful fingertips dip shallowly into her. Then, as Amity lets out a shaky, breathy sound of approval, Luz curls her fingers fully inside her, pressing into that particular sensitive spot that makes Amity gasp and try to double over on instinct. At the same time, Luz flattens the tip of her tongue against her clit and digs her nails into Amity’s leg.

Amity would never think of anything so stupid as calling an orgasm “planet-shattering” or “vision-impairing,” but, oh,  _ wow. _ She comes harder than she’s probably ever come before, shaking all over in her release and panting silently, mouth open even as Luz slides cleanly out of her and ducks under her skirt as she lets it fall. Amity keeps her eyes shut tightly, face turned upwards until her legs give out, but Luz is quick to catch her once again, lowering Amity to her own lap tenderly.

“Looks like you fell for me again,” she murmurs into Amity’s forehead. 

Amity opens her eyes just to make sure Luz can see her roll them.

“Heh,” Luz snorts, smoothing a wild lock of Amity’s hair behind her ear. “Feeling good, Blight?”

Amity smiles. “You have no idea, Noceda.”

She sits up, tugging her bra back up her chest, then shrugs both her sleeves back onto her shoulders. For a brief moment, Amity considers tugging her pants back up, but she reconsiders in favor of divesting Luz of her clothes as well. She leans in close to Luz, a predatory smile on her face as she pushes Luz to the ground by her shoulders. As she prepares to pounce, a smug “Looks like it’s my turn to have you now” on her lips, there’s a truly bloodcurdling scream from outside the closet. 

Amity tenses. A stricken expression falls over Luz’s face. “Oh my god, Amity, I think that means lunch is over.”

“And?” Amity demands, crawling over Luz. “I don’t care. I don’t have to go to class.”

“But—but, I… I do?” Luz splutters. “Weren’t you the one saying things like… mmm, uh, being studious, and, uh…”

Amity is too busy kneading Luz’s chest with one hand and rucking up her shirt with the other, pressing her hand against her firm stomach and pressing her lips to Luz’s neck, for her to even consider replying to or even acknowledging Luz’s words.

“Amity!” Strong hands seize Amity’s wrists. “I literally  _ just _ got into Hexside. I gotta go to class.”

Amity sticks out her bottom lip, sitting back on her heels. “Hardly fair. You’ve been distracting me all week, and now you won’t let me distract you?”

Luz eyes her for a moment. “What if… what if we make another bet?”

Amity tilts her head warily. “What kind of bet?”

“I bet you won’t ask me to be your girlfriend, not just your secret. If you ask me out and let me go to class now, I’ll… hmm. I’ll let you do whatever you want to me on our first date.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? I’m not done listing the conditions.”

“You don’t need to,” Amity snaps, lunging forward until she’s lying on top of Luz, nose to nose. “Luz Noceda, go out with me and be my girlfriend. If you say no, I’ll kill you and cremate your cadaver in front of the whole school.”

The corners of Luz’s lips quirk up. “Cute. Is this what you call asking me out?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, Ahmity Blight, I accept.”

“Stop saying it like that.”

“Fine. Let me up? I really have to go to class.”

“Wait,” Amity says, and bends forward to kiss her. 

She’s sure that there will be many more, to hell with whatever ramifications she might face from dating the human, because this has been the best week of her life.

_ Fin _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, I finish my first ever commission in the span of a month, almost a hundred pages of Google Doc later. Thank you to everyone who helped me through this process, especially Sapphire_Quarry, murderers_of_all_murderers, and everyone from the Diakko/Lumity server. 
> 
> I hope you all liked this. I have much more planned in the future, so if you liked this, make sure to follow me or commission me yourself! :D
> 
> I love you!!!


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